Andy Smart's Blog, page 8

Andy Smart’s Friendly Little List of Travelling Tips Part One: First Time Travellers, Afore Ye Go!

South China Sea 2005, Hainan. My first ever photo of China at the beginning of a three year trip.

 

Welcome to the first part of Andy’s friendly little list of travelling tips. If you think of any suggestions or additions then by all means comment at the bottom of the post. Most of my travelling has been done in and around East Asia though over the past 10 years though no doubt there’ll be a fair amount that will still be of use even if you’re not heading over to that neck of the woods.

Back in 2005 you could fit my travelling CV onto the back of a postage stamp I was so green, and that was at the age of forty! If you’re thinking about to hitting the road with virtually zero experience, here are a few key areas to think about that you’ll thank yourself for when the time arises.

I love planning for trips. If you are heading off but still feel kinda laid-back by the whole idea, as soon as you can see your kit building up then the excitement starts to grow. It’s one of the best feelings; a deep mixture of satisfaction, anticipation and knowing your life is about to change.

Before you go

(WKTG: Well Known Travel Guide)

Ever been around someone who’s going on about a great idea they have or a plan but they never end up doing it?

Actually hand on heart I guess we’ve all done it. We get this amazing project in our heads transporting ourselves in that future moment of possibility visualising the best possible outcome only. Unfortunately it quickly loses momentum and like a brief bright spark of energy, is extinguished before the end of the week.

Make sure that this time it doesn’t happen. Hold your cards close to your chest and keep your idea to yourself. Like quitting smoking, if you tell anyone about it, it’s like bursting a balloon and you can feel the energy of the whole thing quickly going down the toilet. The more people you tell that you are never going to smoke again, the more you can feel that by 8pm you’re gonna be reaching for those ciggies. I can’t explain why this happens, but telling people about some great idea you have about anything is just the worst thing you can ever do.

If you do start telling people about your plans, if they are even slightly adventurous, count how many people cast serious doubt on it or tell you it can’t be done. Family and colleagues seem to be the worst. Don’t let anyone put you off. Of course it can be done. Maybe they just worry that their mate is going to do something really interesting and leave them pushing a trolley around Sainsbury’s or sat behind a computer in the office all day. A few years ago I mentioned to my Chinese boss of my idea to drive to Xinjiang. “Why do you want to do that?” was her surprised response screwing up her face. She then cleverly told everyone in the office knowing full well that they would all ask me the same question in exactly the same doubtful manner therefore deflating me like a knackered old inner tube. Be blinkered about the whole thing and stop telling people about it immediately.

Do thinks in easy steps. Cross them off your list one by one. The key to doing anything successfully is breaking the bigger picture down into bite sized chunks. One of the big reasons why people fail at things is looking at how far the end result is away. From such a great distance no wonder things can seem impossible.

Enjoy that satisfied feeling of the energy of the whole thing building day by day, in your own time, in your own way and without anyone’s judgment. And more importantly enjoy THIS feeling:

“Oh India. Amazing! So when are you going?”

“Next month. I fly out on the twentieth!”

“So you already have your ticket then? How long are you going for?”

“At least a year!”

Yes you bought your ticket. You’re really going. No one can stop you. How are you feeling now? Excitement, fear, your world has now changed forever! It’s a one-time only feeling that only first-time travellers get.

It sounds ridiculous to say but doing the proper prep work is kinda important. Yes plan your route no doubt using the WKTG but check on essentials such as where the police station is and when it’s open, how far the train, bus station and airport are away and how to get there. Is there a bank where you are going? Think about it if you’re heading into a rural area where no one uses bank cards. Banks in these areas may also not have ATMs. Check out how far away you may be from internet or phone line.

Knowing when the holidays and festivals fall are super important. For people who have travelled before it’s easy to get complacent. In China during the Mid-Autumn Festival hotel prices treble and it may be difficult to get a room anywhere. Some friends of mine flew from Kathmandu to Beijing with the intention of catching the train to Mongolia. Unfortunately they didn’t realise that it was the very beginning of the Chinese Spring Festival. The Mongolian embassy was closed so they took a huge gamble taking the train to the border on the advice of someone they met at the guesthouse. With their Chinese visas running out and unable to obtain a Mongolian visa at the crossing, they were forced to catch the train back to Beijing. By the time they got back the police station was also closed and they were forced to fly to Thailand and go diving. Not a bad outcome I guess but the drama and stress overwhelmed them for weeks until the ordeal was over.

Do you really need all of those injections before you go? Ask someone who has already been there or do your own research online as well as listening travel companies or doctors. Remember drug companies make huge amounts of money out of people who haven’t got a clue. Often your jabs will only cover you for a small number of bugs and germs nature has in its arsenal anyway.

Save money and save the pain for example, one in a million travellers will ever catch Japanese Encephalitis but it costs £90 for a course of two shots of pain. Tell me about it!

Here is a list of vaccination prices via Nomad: (Nomad Travel Vaccination Prices)

Click on each risk to find out more information. At least double check on the NHS website here: (NHS Travel Vaccinations)

For an amazing free PDF ‘International Travel and Health’ go to The World Health Organization’s site here: (World Health Organization Free Booklet)

Also the ‘Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’ is a great website: (CDC: Traveller’s Health)

Check which ones you really need!

Learn some of the language yes, but make it useful stuff that you will be able to use immediately when you arrive. Numbers, days of the week, tomorrow, yesterday, “How much is that?” “Could you take me to the train station please?” etc.

2005: Next, leading to full on panic stations, of course was my virtual total lack of Chinese speaking ability. I had really tried to learn some basic Chinese (kinda), going to lessons after work every Monday. I do remember coming out of those lessons with my brain absolutely fried, leaning against the car, sparking a ciggie and thinking

“Shit, that’s difficult!”

Things didn’t go well at all really, and in the end the teacher stormed that she

“could teach a child easier!”

Not only was it difficult but she was teaching grammar to me. Of course grammar is integral to any language, but being able to say to a taxi driver “the red pen is on the table” or “the big blue plane is bigger than the white car” isn’t particularly helpful in any situation. As D-Day got ever closer my concern in this vital area understandably turned into panic; “Excuse me Sir! Did you know that pencil is very long?” That was what I was armed with when I went to China.

(Exerpt from my book Just Turn Left at the Mountain)

Leave copies of all important things with someone you trust back home like your passport, certificates, national security number, bank details etc. Ask them if they will be able to help you out if you have any problems at home. Maybe it’s the bank or some unpaid bills. You never know what pain in the arse is going to come knocking on your door while you’re away. Stress from thousands of miles away is the last thing you need.

IRRITATING BEYOND BELIEF!

Passport: If you have the money get one with the maximum number of pages. You never know when you’ll be crossing borders and sometimes whoever stamps you in or out will waste one of your pages, highly irritating! If your on the road for any length of time you’ll be surprised how quickly you get thought it.

The UK does a ‘jumbo’ 48 page passport. You can’t beat that ‘sorted’ feeling when it arrives through the post.

First Major Trip: Butlin’s Holiday Camp, Minehead

Lots of em!

If you need to extend your passport or so a border crossing then there’s nothing worse than hunting for a photo shop or booth at the last minute!

It’s surprising how many passport photos one can get though on the road. Often you may have to use two or three at a time. You can also scan one to a memory stick and try and print off a batch that way.

Take it or leave them? I didn’t realise how useful they would be but I took my most important educational certificates with me. In China this turned out to be invaluable when I decided to hang out and do some English teaching. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to take these most treasured of items with you. All I can say is how glad I am they came with me. Keep copies of them back in your home country.

Maps hmmm. You can never have enough! Take really good maps of where you are going. Maps are amazing as they are flat and so easy to pack. You’ll be surprised how few people you meet actually don’t have a map, just a WKTG.

See Part 2.07 ‘On the Road’ and you’ll thank yourself for it when the time comes.

Useful items: Slowly build up your kit A: So you don’t notice the cost and B: The feeling of seeing your stuff coming together over the months is unbeatable. I AM GOING! HELL YEH!

Bathroom bag (so useful), mozzy net, decent flip flops (great if you’re using public showers) and walking shoes, a sleeping bag liner to kip in if you have to sleep in an iffy bed.
Decent bag locks. This can also be metal cables that you can attach to something solid in the hotel room. Keep your valuables locked away at the bottom of your main bag in your hotel room.


Don’t spend all of your money in the travel shop. Check out the local hardware shop for small but mega-useful but cheaper things like large metal crocodile clips, clothes pegs, insulation tape (so frigging handy), universal electrical adapters, an electric element for boiling water, decent string/cord to hang up your washing with. I bought one with suckers on it that was total rubbish and couldn’t take any weight whatsoever.
Waterproof bags and silicone anti-moisture sachets, labels for your all of your bags, more insulation tape, spare sunglasses and box.

Earplugs: Every traveller’s salvation, especially in China. Also useful in noisy guesthouses. Bring shed loads of them. These are the best as they last for ages and you can wash them. Don’t forget to bring tweezers to pull them out if you’ve pushed them                                                                                       too far in.

Medical pack:

Again as above with points A & B. I’ve got a huge pack together for my next trip (see Nomad or I started building it up last year. However if you do carry the mother-load with you then also keep a smaller one to use in public. If you’re hanging out where there are lots of other travellers then watch how many people come to you when they have a medical problem.

Some good basics to keep in a manageable sized pack are:

Ibuprofen 400mg (Awesome things, also great for destroying the adrenaline produced by anxiety)
Standard antiseptic, wipes, spare latex gloves and other basics like plasters/Band-Aids etc. Medical tape is really useful.


Anti-diarrhea medication of sorts
Antibiotics
Antihistamines for insect bites especially the big ones like hornets (really useful so take a couple of boxes)
Athlete’s foot powder also used for crotch rot (for hot, damp and humid conditions, works amazingly well)

Like all of this you can take it or leave it. I took insurance when I first hit the road and never needed it. Most people don’t.

However, I read a story recently about a teacher who died in China but didn’t have the insurance to pay for his body to be flown home. His family therefore had to deal with their tragic loss and raising enough money for him to come home at the same time. It can cost up to £10,000 depending on the distance. Go here to read the full story and the huge list of comments > Family of dead Hangzhou ESL teacher desperate for help getting their son’s body home

Go here for an article that will make you think seriously about this if your planning to go away for any length of time > The Guardian: Dying Abroad

I also had the misfortune of having an operation in a ‘mid-range’ Chinese hospital a couple of years back and it was grim. I took some mid-range insurance out which costs me just over £100 a month with Allianz, the broker being Pacific Prime who will give you a pile of affordable policies. I shopped around for months before finding this one. I now carry a card in my wallet giving me access to a large number of ‘Direct Doing’ ‘luxury’ hospitals if things go pear shaped > Pacific Prime

If you haven’t been on the road before, how to handle money is unfortunately one of those ‘into the unknown’ elements that we end up working out as we go along.

Definitely change some cash into the local currency before you go and not at the airport for the obvious reasoning that it’s more expensive to do it that way.

The back of a Mongolian 20 Tugrik note purely because I like it!

For me, I took a wedge of traveller’s cheques with me that turned out to be one of the biggest headaches not just for me but for nearly ever bank teller I gave them to. Just when you’d rather be out and about doing something interesting, there you are for hours in the bank while a group of baffled looking cashiers tried to sort it out. Well, that’s how it was most of the time in China anyway. Use traveller’s cheques for what they are meant for and that’s in case of emergencies.

To my amazement I dared to put my UK bank card into a Chinese cash machine. Admittedly everything was in Chinese but I knew when to put in my PIN and guessed from there. Hey presto out came the cash! Actually, these days most ATMs around China will offer you a choice of languages and accept anything connected to ‘Visa’.

Aside from that, just like anyone else around the globe we take a chance of carrying our most treasured of belongings with us. Admittedly it’s not the same chance, for as travellers we stick out like a sore thumb. Leave what you don’t need back at the hotel. If you can’t leave your most important things in the hotel’s safe then lock them up in your travel case. Dodgy hotel staff are far less likely to tear open a bag and bring immediate attention to themselves. More likely they are only going to rifle around drawers and open bags.

Click to enlarge

Well, that’s about all I can think of for now.

Watch out for ‘Part 2: On the Road’ which should be out any time.

Safe Journeys!

Tagged: adventure, Andy Smart, AndySmart, Asia, backpackers, backpacking, Backpacking China, China, Eastasia, South East Asia, Travel, travel tales, Travel tips, travel writing, traveltips

The Beginning of Winter, Beijing 2015: Knickers in the Wind

One of the good things about going it alone is that you can stop and make notes in your own time. These are observations that have been sitting in my phone for months. It’s full of ramblings like this.

The Beijing DaFeng (big wind) is whipping its icy fingers from Mongolia across the city today. Powder snow cascades down from avenues of trees illuminated by the dazzling winter sunshine and crystal blue sky. The early cold snap has taken them by surprise and a lot of the leaves still haven’t fallen. They flutter down all around forming a green-white frozen carpet which gives a satisfying crunch as my bike passes over. Cold aside, the wind means that we’re having the luxury of an extended period of excellent air at the moment and it’s a blissful time.

Girls still wear high boots, a fashion that never seems to diminish. This year though, it’s spray-on shiny black leather trousers that are ‘in’ (no really) and are being worn everywhere at the moment. The logic is that they keep out the cold (yeh right!) As per usual although the temperatures are plummeting there are still guys wearing small undone jackets who refuse to wear a hood, hat or anything practical. Bent over with hands thrust into tiny pockets one chap recoils as the cold gusts down the street. Risking hypothermia for sake of ruining one’s hair hardly never equates now does it?

People who work outside all day wear their usual protective cold weather gear. There are thousands of delivery drivers and couriers who mostly drive three wheeled motorized carts with a large metal box mounted on the back. They wear masks, heavy padded coats and protective leg guards that cover their knees. One chap cycles past with his cart load of sweet potatoes leaving a fragrant trail of smoke behind it. His radio loudly plays traditional Chinese flute music though you can hardly complain about that now can you?

The only part of the ride that isn’t flat is the dip under the expressway and I pass one of the street cleaners going in the other direction. I often see her here. The street carts are pedal powered and look really heavy so it’s no wonder she always stops half way up the hill to take a break. As she unscrews the top of her flask a slight plume of steam is immediately taken by a brisk air current. Our frequent passing means we’ve started making eye contact; a fleeting but intense second; dark eyes framed by her thick burgundy scarf and dirty grey hood both tightly wrapped across her head. I wonder what it must be like out here pedalling that great hulk all day in this. I know I live a life of luxury in this country. Mei cuo! (‘you’re not wrong there!’)

Parking up outside the supermarket, the road is more like a wind tunnel of swirling vortices that project dust and detritus in icy blasts from end to end. Larger fragments of rubbish have become caught high up the bare branches of the trees which strangely includes a large pair of white knickers defiantly flapping away, clinging on or held captive among the bare winter fronds. How did they get there? The wind isn’t strong enough to lift them. Maybe someone threw them out of a top storey apartment window; a jilted lover in a fit of rage perhaps?

Questions and wonder at this unexpected mystery, I go about my way.

Tagged: amwriting, Andy Smart, AndySmart, Asia, Beijing, China, Chinese, Chinese culture, Eastasia, humor, humour, Photography, Travel, travel humor, travel humour, travel tales, travel writer, traveljournal, travelogue, writers, writing

5,4,3,2,1: Countdown to Chinese New Year. Guonian Hao Everyone!

It’s all happening here in China at the moment, so I’d like to wish all of my amazing readers the best of luck for 2016. I’m making some great friends here on WordPress these days >> May all your hard work and dreams come into fruition.

Xinian Kuai le

Four ways to say ‘Happy New Year’ in Mandarin:

Xinian Kuai le (Happy New Year), Chunjie Kuai le (Happy Spring Festival), Xinian Hao (Have a good New Year), Guonian Hao (Pass the year well)

China’s national flower called Mudan. The characters mean Huakai Fugui or ‘when the flower opens you will receive blessings’.

I love Chinese New Year I really do. However, fireworks and red lanterns aside the real reason is that for one time only every year Beijing becomes blissfully quiet. Yes yes yes, I admit that there are regular detonations of oversized air bombs and other pyrotechnics going off but really there’s an awesome stillness that prevails over this vast area. Because the city’s so empty those same detonations resonate and carry for miles reminding you that the masses have vacated the premises.

Chinese festivals happen according to the lunar calendar with the main event normally landing on the full moon. Here’s a quick countdown of the run in and the main event itself.

>>>tx from Baidu<<<

5: Sunday January 17th: The wheels slowly grind into motion with the Laba Porridge Day. Porridge is considered a health food in China and there are porridge restaurants all over. It’s not really the porridge we are used to though as it’s cooked with rice and not oats. Laba’s known for being made from nuts, dried fruit red beans and pickled garlic which turns green in the vinegar. From this day, people start to make plans for the Spring Festival.

To find out your Chinese zodiac sign drop by this lovely website here >>> here <<<

4: Saturday January 23rd: Chinese college students finish their winter tests and have the luxury to be the first ones to pack their bags early. If you have to leave town then the earlier the better is the ticket. Avoid the last minute rush at all costs. Middle school and high school kids also have tests in January.

During the next week you’ll often see people loaded with shopping bags and boxes of food and red gift bags to take home and give to relatives.

3: Saturday January 30th: After this there is only one weekend remaining before Chinese New Year. The next week sees all train stations maxed out with thousands trying to get a ticket all at the same time.

“Last year my son and I went to the Beijing West Station, my friend Meng Xiang told me. “We had already bought our tickets but when we got there, there were so many people we couldn’t get in. Finally we left, got a taxi to the airport and went home that way. I’ll never go to the train station again for the Spring Festival”

‘Fu’: means happiness or blessing

2: Saturday 6th/Sunday 7th: If you work in an office this year is potentially a real bind with the main event falling on a Monday. This means that your company may well close on the Friday before leaving you to hit the road with a million or so other last minute unfortunates. Admittedly, many owners will shut up shop early allowing their own early escape.

On Sunday families will clean their household from top to bottom for New Year.

Friday 5th January: You know you’re on your way to one of the big train stations when the subway starts to fill up. Line 2 is packed to the rafters with people and their luggage. Some have carrier bags of food for the long journey ahead. You don’t want to go near the food served up on the train believe me! Trolley bags have packages and other essentials tightly strapped to them.

I can feel the anticipation building up inside. I’ve always wanted to witness the phenomena that is Beijing Central Train Station before Chinese New Year.

Out of the subway and across the main overpass I’m greeted with an astonishing sight. A sea of thousands fills up every space outside the station. It’s like a huge open air concert but with no stage.

To one side people sit on their cases waiting for friends or family and passing the time smoking or coordinating their trip on their mobile phones. There are extra ticket booths to reduce the pressure on the main office though this isn’t helping much. Two towers with armed guards in camo’ have been placed either side of front of the station. A family run past at top speed looking definitely late. A woman in high heels leans back to keep her super-heavy bag from dragging on the floor. How can she possibly endure lugging that around all day? A wave of hundreds suddenly cuts across exiting the building having just arrived on an incoming train adding to the confusion.

Inside the cacophony is overwhelming. I love travelling around China but today I feel lucky not to be one of the many here as I know what lies ahead for them; hours of standing room only down the aisles crammed in overnight that’s what.

Sunday Night/New Year’s Eve: And Then There Were Fireworks. Oh Yes! 

More madness of the extreme variety. The age old tradition of setting off fireworks to scare of the legendary ‘Nian’ or sea monster that would come inland once a year to eat the villagers. If you go out on New Year’s Eve in China just be mindful and steer clear of any areas where you may get boxed in by groups of people letting off fireworks at the same time. I hold my hands up and admit I’m scared to go out in it these days having been hit square in the leg by a rocket last time. It flew down the road, ricochetted off of me and exploded against a restaurant window a second later.

Due to the government’s bid to ease pollution levels, it’s slightly harder to find firework vendors this year than in the past, going down to a measly little 942 stalls down from 1,178 last year. Apparently, more people are buying environmentally friendly fireworks, which contain no sulphur, produce less smoke.

 

1: Monday 8th February

Jiaozi > My favourite > Yum!

Well there you have it. Having survived Armageddon it’s time to sit back in your fluffy slippers, settle in and watch the Spring Festival Gala TV for the day and evening. People eat ‘jiaozi’ (savoury dumplings made from pork) up in the North and ‘tangyuan’ (sweet dumplings made from sticky rice) in Southern China. You can get a seat on the subway and fireworks continue to be let off until the 22nd (grrrrrrrr).

Best Wishes once again.

Lets go out with a bang shall we?

Gongxi Facai

 

 

Tagged: Andy Smart, AndySmart, Asia, Beijing, China, Chinese, Chinese culture, Chinese New Year, Eastasia, humor, humour, Photography, the environment, Travel, travel humor, travel tales, travel writer, traveljournal, travelogue, traveltips, writers, writing

First Driving Experience in China: From Excitement to a State of Shock

This is a draft from Chapter 4 of my second book (Cross China Road Trip). I am open to any suggestions including editorial ones. Illustrations will be omitted when the time comes.

I am a wreck but not defeated!

30/01/16: With Chinese New Year is nearly upon us, my wife Suzie suddenly has the idea that we should go to Tangshan in the neighbouring Hebei Province to visit her parents early. Her best friend Zhang Tao says we can borrow her car for the day so from now on its game on.

Well I say no problem but actually there are a few distinct drawbacks to the plan. Firstly I’ve never driven in China before and have lived here long enough to know full well how totally insane the roads really are. To add to it, it’s been almost a year since being behind a steering wheel which was in the UK. That means left lane and right side driving position, phew! Next comes wifey’s complete lack of enthusiasm to participate and drive in any way despite possessing her own Chinese driving license, the excuse being ‘I haven’t driven in years. I just can’t!’ Oh cheers for that then.

Pushing niggling worries aside I haven’t thought about it much. Tangshan is quiet close to Beijing after all; a mere three hundred kilometres so we’ll get there no problem. Opening the road map the day before, seeing the actual route is like receiving a jolt of electricity. These days my total preoccupation in life is hitting the road, leaving Beijing for a few months to find out what life is like up in the North West. The sight of that straight expressway leaving Beijing therefore fills me with an excitement I haven’t experienced in ages.

Having worked out the route, we are up early, pack the car and are off. First head up the G6 Gausu Gonglu (expressway) which conveniently runs right through our area, up to the Sixth Ring Road and turn right along the S50. This will take us in an easterly direction then south avoiding Beijing at all costs. It’s Saturday and all driving restrictions are lifted at the weekend. During weekdays people without a Beijing number plate can only drive around town in the early mornings or late evenings. Those with can only drive on certain days according to the numbers on their plate, done in a bid to ease congestion and the legendary high levels of bad air. Without a shadow of a doubt, weekends are a total nightmare if you bring your car into the city.

“Where are we going?” grumbles Suzie after two minutes up the G6.

“Up to the Sixth Ring and around Beijing. I did my homework last night,” I laugh, trying to maintain a positive atmosphere in the car.

“I don’t know it,” she snaps. “We should have gone to the fifth ring road. I don’t know this way.” Oh dear. Yes we all love our nearest and dearest I know. That’s the reason why we’re with them in the first place. There are however moments like this when all feelings of harmony and togetherness automatically get transported to the bottom of the laundry basket with one’s dirty undies right? It is in fact at such times that wifey can inflate like a spiky angry old puffer-fish. Here we go!



After another ten minutes of ear battering I succumb, get onto the nearest slip-road, pay at the toll gate, pull a U-turn to the opposite side and get a second ticket. Quarter of an hour later, there we are driving back through Qinghe (our district and pronounced Ching-hurr) towards town immersed in a painful silence only broken by my passenger’s annoying huffs and puffs.

Hey presto! Upon entering ‘the Fifth’ we are instantly transported into traffic hell of the highest order. A six lane carpet of static vehicles that we will have to endure around at least a third of Beijing. Yeh nice one on that! It’s a startling scene that brings up more than the normal feelings of frustration and irritation though. For me the situation also shepherds a rising sense of dread. In China, if you are involved in any sort of collision, by law the drivers have to keep their vehicles in exactly the same position until the police come to view the scene thus intensifying the gridlock exponentially.  An image of the single Westerner having just had a prang surrounded by thousands of angry locals all beeping their horns is one that I try to push aside while focusing on the task at hand. Cars jump lanes with annoying regularity. The ‘hard shoulder’ is in continual use by impatient drivers who skirt illegally alongside the slow lane and then push in causing more chaos.

After an agonising hour and a half at last we reach the junction for the G1. Praise be! To be honest by this time my brain feels like it needs to be shut down and rebooted though the promise of some open road ahead is incentive enough to maintain concentration.

And there it is! We’re out of Beijing, the car is at last out of second gear and we can all chill out. I love this feeling. I love this feeling. I love this feeling more than anything else in the world. We’re best mates again and Suzie reclines her seat to take a nap leaving me to my own head space. This is really living. To at last break free from the soporific confines of the metropolis.

Miles of farmland met by small villages of tiny box-like pale red brick weathered homes. Narrow tracks weave their way over hills and along the side of rivers navigated by small inexpensive cars kicking up dust as they go. The way on is over a low bridge at least a mile long as the expressway is briefly lifted above rivers, lakes and fields marked by stacks of hay and worked earth.

A huge ghost town that’s just been built. There are no people, no machinery and no activity. Apartment blocks tower empty against the horizon. Past Xianghe County. It is said that areas like this including nearby the city of Langfang will one day be absorbed into Beijing. Further on, another area is being developed. Row after row of twenty storey grey skeletons stand half-finished facing the elements. Rusty brown steel reinforcement rods protrude from the top of the incomplete walls silhouetted against the sky like an old toothbrush with its bristles bent outwards.

Tangshan is known for the earthquake in 1976 where over a quarter of a million people died. There is a memorial at epicentre depicting lost lives and people dedicated to rescue and rebuilding.

I remember Tangshan from back in 2011 when by Chinese standards it was an average sized sleepy little city of three and a half million with an additional four million in surrounding areas. These days new high-rise buildings have sprouted up all over the place and it looks completely different. As we’re already completely lost Suzie jumps out of the car and flags a cab shouting “Follow this taxi!” Not a bad idea that actually.

A brief few hours with the family. We’ve had a fine afternoon though in no time at all we’re already heading home. The way back is a distinctly more relaxed affair. A gorgeous winter sunset briefly obscured by a few peach and ochre clouds, I settle in behind the wheel in a state of utter contentment. Convoys of old blackened trucks line the slow lane filled with livestock. Sheep are caged up and squashed in together. Some have their faces pushed up against the bars. We sure don’t think about that when we’re down the restaurant now do we!  A single lorry has a blown tyre and remarkably and the driver continues to coax it along the shoulder as huge pieces of rubber being strewn all over the place. It leans precariously to one side and is no doubt causing maximum damage to the rear axle.

People do not indicate on the expressway and seems a strangely unnecessary thing to do though I can’t stop myself. Some cars pull wildly from the fast lane across the middle to the slow lane in order to overtake two vehicles and then diagonally shoot back across to the fast lane. For the first time I have a try myself, hurtling along the slow lane past a coach and then returning back to the middle lane, howling with laughter, yeeehaaaa! No way you’d do that in the UK without inciting some serious road rage.

As darkness falls we hit the final toll gate and once again enter the arena of doom during the peak of rush hour Beijing style. Great timing there mate. Thirty years of experience on tarmac including a year in South Korea and I’m not prepared for this at all. Compared to this morning’s fun and games the Fifth has become unexpectedly far more intense. I decide to put us in the middle lane according to the following logic:

1. The fast lane isn’t really a fast lane at all as its just as immobile as the others. Also, if I was in the fast lane how the hell will I get across to the other side when we finally get to our junction? If you indicate no one responds. You have to push your way in and even then people don’t move until the last possible moment. I simply don’t have the stomach for it.

2. If you’re in the slow lane it means you’re subject to hundreds of cars entering the expressway in a huge snake leading to being virtually motionless.

The middle lane idea however is a fatal error and henceforth today I now embrace a new kind of driving. Having travelled around Beijing in the safe confines of a taxi you assume you’ve seen everything, that you are familiar with the poor driving and fully able to cope with driving proper when the time comes. The reality is though, that only being behind the wheel will you find out what it’s really like. Lord help me!

If you are in the middle people continually try to change lane, pushing in from either side of you. This is done with zero regard for anyone else. There are numerous times when it happens from both lanes simultaneously and I feel that the car’s about to get crushed, especially when two lorries have me boxed in and there’s someone right up my tail pipe. From the slow lane, when someone cuts in another follows them sensing an opportunity to enter, unbelievable! Swings and roundabouts; Suzie and I click back into our usual sync’ as she becomes an amazing co-pilot giving radar-like warnings of potential prangs. At times when collision is looking imminent the only thing we can do though is both shout AAAAAAAAAGH at the same time.

Now refusing to yield it looks seriously like I’m about to make contact with a silver 4×4 as it comes in at an angle to my front end and I hit the horn in long uninterrupted bursts until it backs off, wanker! As a whole experience it can only be described as continual non-stop slow moving battle that proceeds throughout the entire length of the fifth ring road. We emerge unscathed; my primary goal of preserving Zhang Tao’s car intact.

By the time we reach Qinghe I am a worn-out beaten up wreck that never wants to be in a car again. Opening the door, stretching my legs out and emerging into the cold refreshing night air, I feel like a fighter pilot that’s just had his first dog-fight over London; climbing out of the cockpit of my beaten up Spitfire having made an emergency landing at Biggin Hill; smoke billowing out of the engine housing; wings strafed with cannon shells and smashed canopy; my trusty co-pilot and I barely made it back to tell the tale.

Tagged: amwriting, Andy Smart, AndySmart, Asia, Beijing, China, Chinese, Chinese culture, Driving, Eastasia, humor, humour, Photography, Tangshan, the environment, Travel, travel humor, travel tales, travel writer, traveljournal, travelogue, traveltips, writers, writing

Chinese Medicine: Donkey skin, red dates and sesame!

Some parts have been translated.

Round the corner, the local ‘yaodian’ is far more than any old pharmacy. It provides traditional Chinese medicine as well as modern drugs, consultations and various other treatments. If you ever sick and ‘need a pick me up’ you won’t find a more colourful and vibrant place to go.

My batteries have been seriously low lately with some nasty energy sapping virus and it’s not surprising with all the bugs being passed around at the moment. I’m seen by Dr Bo who comes from the Hubei Province. Amazingly he’s seventy three years old and still going strong. He has an easy going and approachable manner about him.

After taking my pulse and showing him my tongue (poor man) he makes his diagnosis. “Your body is not in a good balance. Your liver and kidneys aren’t working very well together. There is a fire inside of your body which we need to put out.” This is why I love China. I can’t imagine my local GP in England ever saying anything like that.

At that Dr Bo goes off at a tangent. “You know in Chairman Mao’s time every doctor would think about the patient’s needs. These days some young doctors only try to sell the most expensive medicine. I would never do the same as them.

Now engaging me with conviction he continues. “Do you know Dr Sun Simiao? He was famous almost two thousand years ago and was called the King of Medicine. His book ‘Yao Fang’ is the holy bible of all health. Here we use the same medicine. You will need to take it three times a day for one month.”

Dr Bo then spends five minutes writing a list of twenty five ingredients (“plants and minerals”) to take to the apothecary at the rear of the building. Here your prescription will take shape; a huge pile of natural materials that get formulated into a notorious brown drink served in 250ml sachets. I’ve had it before; a super-bitter concoction of foulness that smells like some old drawers at the bottom of a wardrobe in a rented semi-furnished flat you’re just about to move into. Yes yes, an obscure description I know but unfortunately it is what springs to mind. The best way to take it is by heating it up in a bowl of hot water and downing it in one go. Even so, you’ll still be recoiling for a couple of minutes after.

The shop itself is a wonderful place. All the staff are qualified, wearing white doctors or nurses uniforms. There are beautiful displays of medicine including super expensive ginseng and live sea cucumber which is supposed to be good for the kidneys. There is also ‘dong chong xia ciao’, a plant used for bladder infections. Even a tiny piece is worth a couple of thousand RMB. Near the door is something called ‘e-jiao’. This is donkey skin, red dates and sesame. Its pressed wafer thin and then you’re supposed to crush it into powder and put it in a drink. Apparently it’s good for the blood especially after giving birth.

 

Tagged: Andy Smart, AndySmart, Asia, Beijing, China, Chinese, Chinese culture, Chinese medicine, Eastasia, humor, humour, Photography, Travel, travel humor, travel tales, travel writer, traveljournal, travelogue, writers, writing

Beijing Red Alert Pollution Warning: Praying for Blue Skies

Beijing Central Business District

Yes it’s official. The authorities have issued a ‘red warning’ to Beijing that pollution levels are going to reach dangerous levels. For once the kindergarten opposite is quiet. All schools are closed for at least two days and children advised to stay at home. With the issue of the warning many people are afraid to go out.

“I’m not going out” texted one of my students on WeChat.

“Staying home. Afraid to go out. Even national library books look good today!” starting a flurry of text messages on multiple group chats.

Outside resembles the start of a bad dream. There is a strong sense of foreboding as buildings are wrapped in the heavy dim-yellow-grey toxic blanket that envelops Beijing. At least yesterday the sun was visible (kinda); a yellow disc obscured by a barrier of particles preventing any sort of UV penetration. Today is worse. Today is a bad one. Beijing is the number one ‘top of the charts’ city in China for the worst pollution out of three hundred and eighty six that are monitored.

Beijing’s older generation defiantly practice their square dancing in the park

Locals seeing the bright side of it all.

After weeks of waiting in the cold and damp D-Day finally arrived. With the start of winter the ‘powers that be’ flipped the ‘on’ switch for the heating and hey presto, we instantly became engulfed. People have no control over this including temperature and usually it’s so hot that people leave their windows open. No chance of that at the moment though!

Yes, the heating for the whole country gets switched on at the same time. Amazing hey? Actually when I say ‘whole country’ this is totally wrong. I mean half the country as down south there is no heating at all. Instead they have to rely on air-con or various forms of store bought heating like gas burners or electric fan heaters.

Either way, that millions of tonnes of coal get burnt to produce the electricity to power this lap top feels totally insane. China has to burn almost as much coal as the rest of the world to support its ‘one point three billion plus’ population. Year by year its coal production steadily increases having enough to keep its power stations running for at least thirty years and stockpiles well over the one hundred billion tonne mark, phew!

In a great twist of bad luck, most of Northern China exists in a high pressure area which locks the bad air in. Last week it lasted for five painful days and after a few days of clean air its back with a vengeance. If you are thinking of coming to China then head south as even the big cities such as Shenzhen normally have good air.

I can’t stand it anymore nor can I defend it. In recent years I’ve always stubbornly told people back in the UK that “No it’s not that bad. It clears after a few days and then it’s ok for a couple of weeks”. I left Beijing in 2013 for two uninterrupted blissful years of clean air to return to this! Within days of being back my boss asked me if I had an air index monitor in my phone. That was a new one on me. Turns out that these days there are many variations of monitor apps to warn you of the toxic perils that lurk beyond your windows. You can also see what’s going on in all major cities across China and see your location ranked against others, yearly, monthly, daily or by the hour.

Another ‘must have’ is an air purifier which can be bought in many large supermarkets, department stores or ordered on line. Crank it up in the office or apartment. The school I work has one in each classroom. Even so, one can’t ignore the sluggish feeling of inertia that lingers throughout these times. Sometimes it’s like you just can’t wake up and after a week of constant drowsiness movement becomes somewhat of a chore.

When the air is between ‘excellent’ and ‘moderately polluted’ Beijingers don’t bother wearing masks. When it starts to get higher than that and the smog becomes visible maybe one person in thirty can be seen with one on. They are after all, a royal pain in the arse especially if you cycle everywhere. Yesterday after a long and painful three days on a ‘severely polluted’ warning we finally topped out at ‘Beyond Index’; the worst of the worst! Last night at least half the populace were wearing masks and I wondered what people was going through the minds of those who weren’t. There are also the smokers who never wear masks. You can see immediately they just don’t give a shit!

‘The environment’ is one of those topics that is particularly relevant at the moment and it’s inevitable that the topic of bad air gets brought up. It’s also the one time that local Beijingers are at a disadvantage compared to outsiders.

“We have adapted to it!” snapped one of my students defensively.

Masks come in all shapes and sizes these days. From the utterly ineffectual to the practical and the stylish, there is a particle mask to suit everyone’s tastes and needs these days. Here are a few examples of the latest trends around the city:

A particularly nasty alternative to masks. Shove these up your nose instead!

 

The wind finally came. The icy sub zero fingers of the Mongolian wind removed all traces of the bad air. Beijing is gorgeous when it wants to be.

We were told to go home early from work today and maybe again tomorrow; a city-wide message sent out to companies. I must admit I felt like a kid again just like that time when the school was snowed in and the bus couldn’t get though. And so we wait! Caged in and shut down in our apartments waiting patiently for the ‘Beijing Da Feng’ (big wind) to come and save us all.

Tagged: air pollution, Andy Smart, AndySmart, Asia, Beijing, Beijing pollution, China, Chinese, Chinese culture, Eastasia, humor, humour, Photography, pollution, Smog, the environment, Travel, travel humor, travel humour, travel tales, travel writer, traveljournal, travelogue, writers

Writing While Holding a Job Down at the Same Time: Maintaining That Second Heartbeat

It amazes me how much I’ve achieved when it comes to writing all considering. I mean how one is supposed to maintain a steady flow of thought transference these days is at times almost beyond me. And it’s not just having to go to work six days a week. There are those niggling issues that we all have to deal with that can occur with zero notice. Having just rolled up your sleeves ready to go it and finish that damned paragraph at last, suddenly you find out that some payment went out from your bank account that shouldn’t have and hey presto, bye bye another hour as you sit painfully on the phone trying to sort it out AAAAAGH! Imagine what it must have been like for the likes of William Shakespeare way back in the sixteenth century sitting down to write with no social media to attend, mobile phone or e-mails to distract. It was probably damned quiet then as well.

With so many external influences trying to deprive and rob you of this most passionate of addictions, it has to be about completely applying yourself to ensure there’s enough time and space in order get the job done. Here are a few tips on how to win the daily battle.

1: FORM A CONTINUAL CONNECTION WITH YOUR DESIRE TO WRITE.

I feel it running through my veins every minute of every day. I think about it before going to sleep and in the morning when I’m half awake. I absolutely cannot stop myself. It’s a glorious combination of compulsion and process that holds me in the moment while the rest of the word buzzes around outside.

2: ALLOCATE AN UNMOVABLE WINDOW OF WRITING TIME AND FORM A BRIDGE BETWEEN EACH ONE.

During the day, my job starts mid-afternoon and finishes in the evenings leaving me with the mornings free when my brain is at its most active. After preparation for work, if my luck’s in I’ll get three hours to focus on writing. Now that doesn’t sound much but think about it. Three hours times seven days a week times for weeks a month is actually eighty four hours concentrating solely on writing.

Look at each day and see where you’re going to get the most out of it then aim to widen that window using it as effectively as possible (see below).

Try and write at the same time every day and get a rhythm going. I call it my ‘second heartbeat’.

One of the most irritating times is when I have to stop typing and go to work, especially when writing freely, effortlessly and brilliantly. Blaaaagh! Yes yes yes. I know! Work is the fuel in your car and without it the journey can’t continue. Even so, I just can’t get away from that feeling of extreme reluctance when it comes to closing down the computer for another day.

However, you can still make sure your brain is still plugged in to the process while being away. There will definitely be times when you simply don’t have to think about what you’re doing and switch back over to contemplate writing. This also applies to travelling, either long distance, to and from work or even the shops (driving aside that is). When you’re away from the inner sanctum of the work space this is also an excellent time to let your subconscious do its thing and let new ideas pop into existence. It’s also a great time for list making, organising and prioritising tasks.

Having left your work-space, keep that energy and thought process alive until you return, ensuring that when you sit down to write again you are ready, fired up and good to go with all guns blazing.

3: MANAGE YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA.

I WANT TO WRITE!

I demand that I am able to write. There will and shall be writing time!

These days sometimes it’s best not to think about how much writing one actually gets done compared to the amount of time spent on various websites. I have two WordPress sites, three Facebook pages, two Twitter accounts, Google Plus, Tumblr, LinkedIn, Goodreads, YouTube and Flickr. Then to top it all there’s Amazon Kindle, Amazon Createspace and Nielsen to watch over. Mercy! It’s ferocious, plain and simple. People suggest that you simply can’t live without one of the million other websites that are essential if you are self-publishing such as Pintrest, Tondo or Instagram but you surely have to draw the line somewhere. Enough is enough right? I’m on strike! I refuse to start up another site guaranteed to sap hours of important writing time from my existence while I set up my profile and work out how to get that damned banner to fit! No no no no no!

If you do have to do some major work on a website then set aside some time to do it and get it out of the way in one go. When it comes to replying to comments, adding contacts and sharing new posts, do it during a time when you aren’t doing much else. For me it’s the time when I’m back from work, knackered and just want to put my feet up.

4: AS YOU APPROACH YOUR WINDOW KEEP AWAY FROM SOCIAL MEDIA AT ALL COSTS.

If possible switch off your phone during your window. Avoid the temptation of clicking on your browser icon at all costs having started up your computer. Checking social media and e-mails can wait. Going onto your social media will also destroy your train of thought even if it’s for a few minutes. If you do end up wandering into the valley of the shadow of distraction then kiss goodbye to at least half an hour or more of valuable writing time. Sometimes I’ll end up checking my various accounts knowing that I shouldn’t have and getting irritated with myself as the minutes tick quickly by.

There are also a tonne of irritating time-wasters that can occur when signing into you your various websites that will destroy your writing time if you don’t defer. Like today I realised I forgot to transfer a voice recording from my phone to the computer the night before. So I attach the phone to the computer only to find that it can only be done using iCloud. I then find my iCloud password doesn’t work to I need get it e-mailed to my mail box. I live in China so I need a VPN to get onto most sites. I then discover that my VPN activation code doesn’t work which means I need to sign into my VPN website and get customer support EXCRUCIATING! I often get locked out of Twitter as I have to use a VPN to sign in and the server thinks something strange is going as do my e-mail accounts. It goes on!

Its time thrown down the toilet like this that people just don’t appreciate when they hear that you’re an author. People have absolutely no idea the amount of strife an author goes through on a daily basis. A finished work is far more than a physical work on so many levels.

5: MANAGE YOUR SPOUSE OR PARTNER.

There’s nothing worse than the ‘other half’ interrupting your flow insisting that you need to do ‘this’ or ‘that’ today when you really want to get on with the writing. You know them better than anyone so anticipate impending demands and at that predicted moment cleverly defer them to another time outside your writing window. During the week they may have already mentioned that they want to do something pointless at the weekend so you will therefore have ample time to prepare for it. Also, come to an understanding about boundaries and your window. There’s no way anyone can maintain a train of thought for long if the other half is in the background distracting you.

6: COMPLETE ONE TASK AT A TIME.

As a writer focus completely and utterly on doing one task at a time and doing it well. Let go of other things and don’t bother multi-tasking. Forget them. They are on the ‘to do’ list waiting to be crossed off another day. Whatever you’re writing, apply yourself completely, becoming totally absorbed in that one thing. I like my own space and find talking to myself a superb way of focusing and bringing my attention to a deeper level.

7: MANAGE YOUR DAY JOB.

If you get a say or have some control how and when you work then organize it concentrating on creating that window of writing time every day. The last job I had in the UK I could choose my shift pattern including what I did at the weekends. Before that, as a teacher or manager I’d try and get as much admin done during office hours. Avoid doing unnecessary tasks that no one will notice or thank you for. If you’re in management then delegate as much as possible.

8: MANAGE YOUR HOUSEHOLD CHORES

I’m not saying leaving your house in a total mess but there are countless ways of minimizing time spent on this. Determining factors may vary but if you can focus on doing less while giving the illusion that you’re still getting the job done then go for it.

Get your groceries in once a week. In fact, if you can try and do everything once a week (and the hoovering once a month).

9: GET UP EARLIER.

This sounds harsh but apart from work, for me the single most irritating part of the day is the getting up process. What a complete waste of time! Even rolling out of the sack fifteen minutes earlier will make a huge difference to your window. Set your alarm and readjust to your slightly earlier routine.

10: PREPARE THE NIGHT BEFORE.

Think of the things you need to do every morning and do them in the evening. This is not only a huge time saver, but the resulting feeling of control and satisfaction when you ‘rise and shine’ is quite liberating. You may feel that it’s a real bind at first but you’ll soon get used to it.

11: PERSEVERANCE AND DETERMINATION.

We’ve heard the old ‘never give up’ story a million times but it’s true. The problem is that in our moments of self-doubt, when things go wrong and we feel weak, it’s easy to fail to be in the moment, to forget to knuckle down and fight back. Remember that life fluctuates in waves from one day to the next. Remember to instill your determination and willpower into your daily process and connection with your writing.

12: TAKE A BREAK.

Yes it’s a total pain in the backside. The last thing anyone wants to do is stop writing and it’s contrary to most of the above. However, there are times for everyone when sitting in front of the computer for hours at a time definitely takes its toll. Listen to your body and intuition and have a day off. Don’t even bother going into your work-space. Do something completely different, preferably outside. I’ve recently learnt the hard way, pushing myself too hard. At the end of the day the only thing that suffers is your writing.

13: REFLECT ON YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS THEN MOVE FORWARD.

If you have the chance, at the end of every day take time out to reflect on any achievements or tasks you have completed regarding your writing. By taking time out I mean get away from your work-space and out of the house, either walking around the block or sitting out the back with a ciggie and a beer for half an hour, whatever.

It may be finishing a paragraph or chapter. It may be finally nailing down your cover design or tightening up your blog site. Whatever it is give yourself a pat on the back and acknowledge that now you can move on to do something new. In doing this you are reminding yourself that you are in a perpetual state of motion with your writing and it is channelling through your being like a river with a strong current and white water.

Good luck and may your writing be amazing!

Chaonei No.81, Beyond Chinese Superstition – Beijing’s Haunted House

I hold my hands up. I’m a total geek when it comes to urban exploration and worse when it comes to the paranormal. If you can combine the two together then it’s definitely happy days! A concentrated cocktail of primitive emotions all compressed into a few hours is what you get. Am I going to find it? Am I going to get in? Am I going to get kicked out? What’s awaiting on the inside? Excitement, expectation, fear and a following steady flow of adrenaline gets your senses tuned up well past their normal operating parameters. Oh, and you get to feel young again in an instant.

It doesn’t get any better or more exciting than going on a paranormal investigation. When we’re sitting there in the dark listening and wondering what’s going to happen, in that moment ultimately we are all alone. We aren’t thinking about the job or the boss or how to pay the next bill. All that stuff immediately vanishes into the ether. There’s nothing quite like the threat of contact with the other side or demonic possession to remove you from the daily drudgery after all right? From the moment you start researching a new location, to going out and finding it and exploring, you are on a pathway that most people don’t choose to take. Each step is one that is into the unknown; the absolute direct opposite of what we all do in our day to day existences.

In the UK I used to spend evenings in the local derelict mental hospital (as you do) until it was demolished (sad days). Once it was gone I realised how rare it is to have somewhere like that in your neighbourhood, to explore on a regular basis, to become intimate with its creaking nooks and crannies, peeling paintwork, dangerous stairwells, padded cells and of course it’s spirits.

Chaonei No 81 is a legend in Beijing, its story already well documented and is generally thought to be the city’s most haunted building. To have it on my doorstep is therefore luck beyond belief.

History

This old French Baroque style house lies crumbling amidst a forest of apartment blocks housing over twenty million people. Its history is sketchy to say the least as there are no records for when and why it was built. The nearest anyone can get is that it must have built in the early twentieth century with mixed views on what it what it was used for. Some say it was used as a language school teaching Chinese to missionaries. Others say it was the home of a prominent railway manager or that it was used as a Catholic church. It’s quite unusual to think that it’s only during the 1950’s things become clearer. At some point it was used for government offices and also briefly by the youth movement known as the Red Guards during the Cultural Revolution but then remarkably this beautiful house has been standing empty ever since.

So let’s get this straight. No one knows when it was built. No one knows who built it. No one knows what it was built for. The only facts can be placed within the narrow window of two recent decades. Amazing hey? It’s like Chaonei No 81 just slowly appeared out of thin air and into our consciousness. Considering it exists in one of the world’s most controlled cities it’s no wonder that the place is so mysterious.

Myths

Off the bat, most reports state clearly that Chaonei No 81 is definitely not haunted and that such claims are unfounded. The classic tale is that an army officer left his wife or concubine behind in the house after fleeing to Taiwan during the Chinese Civil War. Out of loneliness she hung herself and her spirit has been lingering ever since. There is however, no evidence of such an officer ever living in the house and as such no origin to the story. Even so, the tale led to the making of the film ‘The House that Never Dies’ in 2014 and since then people from all over come past for a look and a snap on their mobile phones.

Another well-known tale is the disappearance of three builders who were renovating the house. In 2001, apparently after opening up a hole in the basement a ‘ghost’ was seen with an accompanying flash of light. It is said that the builders did not return to work and were never seen again. However, according to the Dongcheng Public Security Bureau there aren’t any records of any such event nor the supposed deaths of some urban explorers in the building in 2007.

Exploration

The gates are wide open and Chaonei 81’s pale red brickwork stands partially covered in thick green ivy and ferns with an undeniable aesthetic appeal. There is also a second higher building in a worse state of ruin with a tower on top of the nearest corner. The surrounding space has been turned into a car park though it seems pretty quiet all considering. Aside from the continual background whooshing of the traffic from the main road there is an instant stillness to the place.

Unfortunately the front door is clearly locked. Damn! A big rusty old chain and padlock mean that there’s no way anyone is getting in this way. I must say that if ever you were going to use a house in a horror movie, this most definitely would be the place to do it. The stone pillared porch half covered in ivy and heavy steps up to the weathered double doors suggest that no one should really be venturing inside.

Making my way around the back I make an awesome discovery. There’s a window that isn’t boarded up and it’s game on. Without time to think my first reaction is to get though as quickly as possible and suddenly I’m inside Chaonei No 81. Yes mate!

Broken floorboards and cracked plaster falling away to reveal corrupted masonry. The ground floor feels sealed up tight as the windows are boarded up. All traces of the outside world are suddenly gone including light and sound. Space pushes in on you. Walls disappear into darkness. Rooms and alcoves pits of nothingness. It’s as if you could be absorbed by this place if you linger for too long.

Upstairs, the feeling is far less foreboding, opening up into spacious partitioned areas with the heavy rafters overhead. There is a serenity here. A slight breeze moving through old net curtains is the only movement in the entire building. Through each window the rich autumn sunlight penetrates the foliage that blankets the building. Like stained glass; an illumination of green-yellow, yellow-brown and orange leaves against the window frame silhouette.

I have to say that I’ve been to some terrifying locations in my time but No 81 is definitely not one of them. I’ve brought along various paranormal equipment with me but get absolutely nothing on any of it. It is in fact a strange place only in that it feels so empty. Can it be that something with such a strong connection with the past can be completely void? Downstairs, even the basement feels still. The only thing to bring on any form of anxiety is my own imagination.

The other building across the way is far more dangerous and I have to be really mindful with each step. The floorboards in most rooms are too weak to take any weight. There are fallen blocks of masonry, slabs of concrete and broken wood everywhere and there is no doubt that this is a really stupid thing to be doing. Another blackened basement. There is a tunnel surrounded by piles of rotting rubbish though as I peer in and hit my head torch, a growling from inside stops me in my tracks. This doesn’t sound good. At that a dog jumps out, snarling and barking and I’m lucky to retreat without being bitten.

Chinese Superstition

I left No 81 without anything to suggest that the place was haunted. Its stories and tales of the paranormal after all come from a country that has superstitions and traditions regarding the afterlife that go back thousands of years. China has Tomb Sweeping Day where people remember their dead relatives. They clean the graves, leave food, flowers and burn ‘ghost money’ to send to ‘the other side’. During the Chinese Spring Festival firecrackers are set off in their millions to scare away the legendary ‘Nian’ which comes in from sea once a year to eat people and destroy property. Red is the national colour and meant to be lucky. The number eight is also be good for prosperity as is the number six for success. The number four when pronounced in Mandarin sounds the same as the word ‘death’ or ‘si’ so is often avoided. Whereas telephone numbers with sixes and eights are more expensive, some companies actually offer to pay a small amount to customers that use a phone number with a four right at the end of it. Most apartment blocks have the fourth and fourteenth floor omitted. Never give anyone a clock as a gift as it is symbolic for an early death and has the same pronunciation as the word ‘funeral’. Whatever you do, definitely do not stick your chopsticks in your rice vertically forming a ‘v’ as it is reminiscent of burning incense usually done at someone’s grave. Phew, it goes on!

However, while there may have been zero activity going on after the initial reccy of No 81, this could be seen as a good thing. If you get a tonne of activity straight off you’ll always be wondering if it’s down to some kind of contamination from outside influences. With not much happening, when something does occur then it’s far more noticeable and meaningful. The next step for me as ever, was to go back a few more times and do a more thorough prolonged investigation. That is until I met a guy called ‘Jimmy’ Zhang Sunyin. He went to school for years just around the corner from Chaonei No 81 and has a completely different take on everything that I’ve just written.

“When I was at school we used to walk past there every day. We all knew of the stories and tales about that place and that they probably weren’t true. However, most of the neighbourhood, all the local people living around here and surrounding know that a girl had died in there at some time. They all know! We all think that the house is a very bad place. We don’t know why, we can just feel it.”

This then explains why during my six hours in the house, even though a steady stream of people came past to have a look and take snaps with their mobile phones, not a single person ventured inside. It may also have a bearing on the fact that this is some serious piece of real-estate yet still Chaonei No 81 is still standing. I mean its slap bang in between Tiananmen Square and the central business district and right next to a subway station. Yes it has a preservation order on it and yes it’s been in the ownership of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Beijing for some time now, but really after being in this city for so long its eye opening that no one has snapped up this piece of minted land.

Jimmy continued “Also about twenty years ago in the nineteen nineties there were some workers that disappeared in the house. Everyone spoke about it. Teachers, parents and students all talked about it and it was in all the newspapers. It’s a true story!”

At this point he started to speak with more urgency “You know you think that Chinese people are superstitious but there are some very real things you should know of. Like never take anything with you or leave anything behind. Only take the photo. You must be careful with everything. I know in the West that people like to go to these places and try and speak to the spirits but in China we are very serious about these things.”

Jimmy then started talking about the arrangement we’d made to meet up and go and investigate No 81 together. Before he seemed very enthusiastic about the idea as after all this time, he would get the chance to delve deeper into what was going on there. Now however, he’d changed his mind.

“People believe that they have two types of energy in their body. One is called ‘yin’ and the other is called ‘yang’. There are many people with a lot of energy like young people who like to go out and do sport. This is the yang. It is like the sun. They are outgoing. And there are those who may stay at home. Like a cloudy day. These are quieter people and is the ying. Most people have both but if you have a lot of ying energy in you then you can get a feeling about things we cannot see. We call this ‘yangqi.

You know in Beijing if there was an old hospital or graveyard or a bad place because of the war where a lot of people died, they will try and build a place with a lot of good energy that’s very happy with a lot of yang like a school or university. This means they will make a balance with the ying and yang.

For example there is a road I often have to cross. Yesterday it was ok and so I went that way. Today I want the same way but I felt different about it, like it was not safe to be there so I went another way. In the same way I felt this about going to the house. Also when I was looking on the internet about 81 I felt very uncomfortable and started shaking. Later I got a really bad headache. I think at the moment it is really dangerous to go there.

If you want to go then God bless and good luck but I can only go another time.”

Main House


































Second House






















Disclaimer: Some of elements in this text have been changed and are fictional. The writer does not claim responsibility for photographs included in this article and that they may or not have been submitted by a second party at a later date.

Oddments & Unusual Observations on the Beijing Subway

The subway is a fascinating place. A concentrated microcosm of Beijing. The amount of information your senses experience on a single subway journey across Beijing can send you into overload if you’re new to the city. It’s not surprising when everything seems so quiet when you go back to your home country.

Yongtaizhuang Subway: There are just as many bikes on the other side of the subway entrance and also Exit C across the road

Down the escalator a recorded female voice on a loop reminds us “Please stand firm and hold zee hand rail”. Beijing is really foreigner friendly and every effort has been made to accommodate, though I wish they’d iron out their basic pronunciation problems.

On Line 8 before lunch you have a fifty-fifty chance of getting a seat and today I’m in luck. Someone starts to get up and I’m in there like a hawk. Nearby sits a middle aged woman in a bright embroidered turquoise jacket, black slacks and high heels with a couple of walnuts held in her left hand which she continually grinds together. She leans back with her eyes closed deep in relaxation, oblivious of the surrounding din. It’s Sunday and there are families with their kids filling the train filled with high energy, all in full holiday mode bound for the Bird’s Nest and Olympic Park a few stops down. A group of seven or eight estate agents board at the next stop also in fine spirits having escaped the confines of the office no doubt. You can’t miss an estate agent; formal black pressed trousers and white shirt with a distinctive yellow ID card hanging round the neck.

There are video screens down the length of the train showing us the same footage of Xi Jinping and the victory parade at Tiananmen Square we’ve been seeing from a month ago. People cheer and wave flags as an assortment of lethal looking hardware including drones and ballistic missiles go by. As the leader inspects the troops in a black open top car, he appears to be strangely bored by the whole thing and I wonder what he’s thinking about. Maybe he’s worried that he left the front door open or what he’s going to cook for Peng Li Yuan (China’s First Lady) when he gets in. Even though it’s old news people are still happy for it to be on. Everyone I asked after the parade said unequivocally that they were proud to be Chinese and that their leader was doing a great job which is hmmmm, more than can be said about ours back on home soil right?

Time to transfer to Line 10. This is the longer of the two journeys as I make my way to work at the Guomao office in the Central Business District. Line 10 is a different ride altogether and as the train arrives you can see at a glance there is standing room only. For some unfathomable reason people try and board the train at the same time as passengers are leaving. It’s a behavioural pattern you see traces of all over the place, not just in the subway. Getting on a crowded lift or the inability to queue up are equally as perplexing.

As a commuter you don’t stand if you have to. It’s a long way to Guomao so you pick the most likely person to leave their seat. Anyone in a suit is probably going to the CBD whereas someone with a suitcase or trolley bag could well be going to take the Airport Express a few stops down.

Squeezing in between two people, I clutch the greasy hand rail worrying how many thousands of hands have already been in contact with it, yeech! The girl next to me is wearing a blue mask, a common site on the subway. There are so many people and in such close contact that it’s easy to pick up some airborne one week nightmare. Another girl flicks her mane of hair across the back of my neck as she reaches up to tie it back. You really get conscious of being in such close proximity to others and at times you can feel people’s bodies squeezing against you.

It’s a strange phenomenon these days. Nearly everyone is holding their mobile phone and it scares me where the future is taking us. Am I the only one who likes to think around here? Nearly half the passengers are glued to a new app’ called Xiao Xiao Kan, a Tetris-like game where you need to match up three icons to form a line and get points. I shake my head as I realise I’ve been peering over a girls shoulder along with another passenger in some semi-hypnotic daze watching her play. She gets three brown bears which pop and are replaced by three red hearts and so on. The game rewards her with words of encouragement to drive her on in a never ending loop of mindlessness ‘FANTASTIC’, ‘GREAT’ and ‘AWESOME!’

At last, the person who I’ve been willing to leave stands up and I smugly grab their seat. My intuition paid off today alright. Opposite a guy in blue jeans wears a purple t-shirt that strangely says ‘keep calm and be mysterious’. A Mum, Dad and their daughter all have matching pink t-shirts which say ‘I love my family’ inside a red love heart. There are only two seats so the husband insists his wife takes his place which she reluctantly does. The daughter then springs up out of her seat and ushers Dad to sit then jumps onto his lap. It’s all smiles and she looks adoringly up at Mum while stoking her hair.

The video screen on this line treats us to another WW2 movie. On a bridge out in the countryside, an evil looking Japanese female officer has a sword fight with a dirty poor innocent Chinese peasant girl. Clearly she is on her last legs whereas the officer who is clearly an expert with her samurai sword is immaculately dressed. Where the girl got her sword from? Maybe from her dead brother. Though he was a master with the blade he was still beaten by the Japanese woman, stabbed in the back and now after years of searching it’s time for some payback. Somehow the poor girl prevails and it looks like it’s definitely lights out in Tokyo. From the depths of war, the film is suddenly interrupted by Shaun the Sheep, something that is hugely popular in China. Using a mattress to retrieve their kite from a tree, five sheep bounce up and down as high as possible before collapsing on top of each other.

There is also a surreal health and safety animation depicting what to do when there is a fire. A screaming businessman flails around in flames while the fireman calmly tells us what we should do with a smile on his face. Next a female subway official with a giant head tells us about the emergency exits. At the same time a number of blackened figures run around screaming in all directions unable to find their way out.

At the next stop a group of twenty-plus soldiers in Arctic dress have gone to the wrong platform and run madly across to this side all leaping on board as the doors are closing. Their CO is clearly pissed off with them barking orders as they charge for the train. As the door closes he looks embarrassed more than anything, especially as there are some stragglers left behind as we pull out.

Approaching Guomao, the train is now packed to the rafters with white collar professionals though as I start to mentally prepare myself for the imminent stampede, the distinct sound of Buddhist chanting to music can be heard. Somehow a tiny guy on a motorised cart with no legs goes down the aisle making his way through a forest of suits and high heels. The music comes from a small CD player and speaker over his back and he pushes a box with a bundle of small notes in front. I can only begin to imagine how crap an existence it must be doing that all day. People say they don’t give money to beggars as it kicks back to some racketeer. Either way, it’s the beggar’s existence and he’ll be in trouble if he doesn’t make enough money. It’s his job no matter how grim so I always give ‘em a kuai.

Rubbish & Recycling – China’s attitude to litter throwing!

It’s the first day of my holiday in Xiamen. Set on the East Coast of the Fujian Province, this coastal city is a well-known holiday resort having a steady influx of visitors throughout the year. Being that I haven’t been near the sea in years, the first port of call is to head immediately for ‘Golden Beach’ and get in the water ASAP. Hell yeh! As the sun quickly starts to burn my skin, the intoxicating smell of the sea air, the cry of sea gulls and the smooth rhythm of the waves form a blissful cocktail of familiar sensations.

Charging into the water though, my joy comes to an abrupt end! After only few feet in, the discovery is that I’m standing up to my knees in a warm soup of rubbish consisting of plastic bags, bottles, toilet paper and condoms; it’s quite honestly one of the most disgusting things you will ever feel and I am in it! The sensation of the bags wrapping themselves around my legs in the water is quite a strange one. It’s almost like they have an intelligence of their own. Though no sea life is present, the carrier bags are in a variety of colours; red, blue, white and the occasional black bin liner. No wonder there isn’t anyone else in the water. Swimming is impossible!

Falling into an immediate depression, I decide to go for a walk along the beach, letting the waves cover my feet in a bid to try and forget about it. No sooner than I begin though, a couple go by throwing down a plastic bottle right next to the water’s edge; AAAAAAAGH!

Infuriated by this total lack of regard for the environment, I call over to them

“Hey, nǐ de píngzi diàole!” (You dropped your bottle!)

“Oh xie xie, xie xie!” (Thank you, thank you!) says the guy, embarrassingly picking it back up as if it was a mistake. With arms folded I watch them walk off, maintaining a fixed glare in their direction. Sure enough, a minute later, he looks over his shoulder, no doubt to check if I’ve gone so he can throw it back down. This goes on for another three times until he’s near enough to a bin, where I assume he is actually going to deposit it. Amazingly, he still throws the bottle on the floor next to the bin instead!

Teaching English as a second language, one of the topics that comes up every month is the environment. Strangely, in terms of interest, this is something that many students struggle with. Often, regarding litter, most scratch their heads wondering what all the fuss is about, after all, “people are paid to clean it all up” I’m frequently told.

Sadly, even in the big cities, rubbish collection is woefully inadequate. Take Beijing for instance. With a massive population of well over twenty one million (almost a third of the population of the UK) and still boasting post-Olympic modernisation, its waste management falls way-short. Every district has only a small HQ with around twenty tiny pedal power dust carts; tricycles with a blue box on the back. Every morning you will see them in formation, the street sweepers donned in fluorescent day-glow orange vests with their brushes lined up at the back ready to go.

Having said that, recycling is massive in Beijing. As there is no real welfare system, if you are out of a job then you can always spend your day collecting useful waste material then taking it down to the local recycling area. Nearby, the Qingyuanli recycling street goes on all day and well into the night. People must spend days collecting huge sacks of plastic bottles, polystyrene, cardboard, old electrical goods; the list is endless. When their rickety three wheeled contraptions can take no more, the collectors will cycle a painfully slow journey across town to get their stuff weighed and sold. For many this is a way of life and it’s not like they have a difficult time finding anything!

The fact of the matter is, that once you are out of the Central Business District area, expect to see rubbish absolutely everywhere including overflowing bins that have long since deposited their contents out onto the street or park. It can get really windy in Beijing; the ‘da feng’ (big wind) is a well-known current that blows in from Mongolia, kicking up dust and rubbish everywhere. You can live on the fifteenth floor and still see carrier bags go by your window. People don’t wear dust masks purely as protection from pollution, it’s also to keep out the detritus that spirals around with the air current.

A small park sits out the back of my apartment. Its fences act as a trap for any bit of rubbish that gets blown its way. After months, a loan street sweeper finally rolled up her sleeves and took it on. Three cart loads later, she hadn’t done a bad job really and once again you could see the grass. Sadly though, she had left the half ton of rubbish that had entwined itself, still fluttering away in all the trees and bushes. I guess collecting litter above head height wasn’t in her job description!