Alex's travel blog

Bradford on Avon, Wiltshire

The grand plan for India: get to the cool, mountainous northern region asap. Stay there for the rest of the trip. However, I didn't think I could cope with getting a train straight to Delhi...Mumbai had been intense enough. Mount Abu, in Rajastan, seemed like a good place to break the journey. It's a 'hill station', which just means that it's in the hills and therefore slightly cooler. I decided further that I needed a break for a few days; I'd been pretty much on the move non-stop since leaving Australia. I eneded up staying in Mount Abu for four full days. Here's a picture overlooking the centre of town.
It's not massively beautiful...a bit scruffy and dirty in fact, and there's not a huge amount to do. But I had a very relaxing few days and I enjoyed it.

On the first evening I had a cooking lesson at the guest house. This mainly consisted of us watching the woman do the cooking, but on the plus side we got to eat it all at the end. Unfortunately, I doubt I'll be able to recreate any of it. After this, I had a drink (tea) with the others from the lesson: two girls from Holland and a woman in her 30's from Australia. The Dutch girls had been round the town, filming absolutely everything, and we watched the videos. We also looked at the Australian woman's photos. They put my endless set of buildings and landscapes to shame: these were all of people, and were very interesting. I resolved to take some like that myself. Their enthusiasm had a very positive effect on me. Because of all the hassles of Mumbai, I think I'd become more cautious and shut out some of what was going on around me. But that meant I shut out a lot of the charm and the funny and interesting stuff. Speaking to them renewed my enthusiasm for India.

As we were talking, we gradually became aware of a racket coming from somewhere: it sounded like people banging drums and/or saucepans. As this got closer, we went to the gate to investigate. Initially, 4 or 5 children ran up, all going mental with excitment and dancing. I did some dancing with them, which they loved. Then the drummers came round the cornew, followed by a huge crowd of adults. In the centre of the crowd, people were holding the four corners of a square of fabric, and under this was a woman, waving at everyone, who seemed to be the centre of attention. I found out that she was getting married at the weekend...so naturally, they were parading through the town each night for the four nights leading up to it. How cool is that?

On the first day, I walked with the Australian woman to see some Jain temples. Jainism is the religion that refuses to harm any living creature: they won't even eat root vegetables because they think digging them up would disturb the insects. The temples were made of marble, and the walls, ceiling and even floor were covered by the most intricate carving I've ever seen. The oldest one was 1000 years old, but you'd never believe it from how good it looks today.

On that excursion, I got a feel for what the locals were like. Again, everyone wanted to speak to you. In Mumbai, they all wanted money or wanted to sell something...but here they were simply curious, or thought it was funny, or whatever. It was obviously a great novelty for them to see a white person. But it made a refreshing change from Mumbai, and it was fun walking down the street shouting cheery hellos to all these total strangers. The downside to their curiosity was the staring. It was really blatent. In this country, if you sense someone is staring at you then you can look at them, and they'll look away. I tried this in India: somebody, often standing right next to me, would be staring at me and making me uncomfortable. So I'd glare at them, but they wouldn't stop, then I'd get embarrassed and have to look away. And they'd keep on staring!

That night I developed a fever. It was the kind where your mind races out of control and you can't stop it. About 24 hours previously, I'd been licked by the hotel dog, so I was worried it was the onset of rabies. Eventually I managed to calm myself down and get to sleep, but I felt awful the next day. It was the most ill I got on my travels.

So for the next few days I took it easy and didn't do much. I did investigate this spiritual group called Brahma Kumaris. It's a worldwide organisation/sect with branches in 95 countries, and their headquarters was right there in Mount Abu. I visited the university (above) and the museum. When I first read about them, I found they beleive that all religions are equally valid and should be studied because they lead to God. OK, sounds reasonable. But I thought the museum was bloody weird. They seemed to have just made up their own religion, arbitrarily drawing elements from the mythology and symbolism of others. Even if I think some of the major religions are a bit weird, I have the greatest of respect for them. But I don't think much of one that was made up in the 1930s. That picture a few entries back was from the museum, as is the following picture:
There was something about how we're currently living in the end of an 'iron age', and we're about to enter a golden age. It was quite obscure and confusing. Well, if you want to know more, visit www.brahmakumaris.com !

My diarrhoea hadn't quite gone away...it wasn't bad, but I need to go to the toilet a lot. This began to really annoy me simply because it was inconvenient. The problem was exacerbated by the toilet paper situation in India. You can't use it because it blocks the drains. Therefore, after using the toilet, the only option is the left-hand technique. I began to get fed up of doing this after a while. Sorry to mention that...I should only mention diarrhoea...oooh...3 more times before I finish the blog!

India has the most amazing food - the best out of all the countries I went to. Look at this meal I had.
It was all you can eat: the waiters came round with naans, rice and all those sauces and just topped up your plate when you wanted. It was amazing.

Harrowbarrow, Cornwall

Cornwall isn't officially part of this trip. Indeed, the trip is over: I got home safely on 23rd July, and now I'm visiting my grandma. I feel I should apologise to anyone who's checked this blog regularly - I haven't been great at keeping it up to date. I know it seems somehow more pointless to read this now I'm at home, but if I can manage to express just a tenth of the excitement and craziness of India in the remaining entries, they should make interesting reading.

Imagine all the exagerated stereotypes about developing countries you've picked up from watching television or reading the news. The appaling living conditions, the traffic chaos, the lack of hygine, the cattle in the roads, the beggars, the hasstle. India is exactly like this.

My first experience was the driving practices, as I took a taxi from Mumbai airport to my hotel (on 21st June). The only rule is to use your horn. Drive anywhere you like. The taxi squeezed between vehicles into gaps I would never have believed possible, sounding the horn to lay our claim to the space. The scary thing was that everybody else was doing the same. I noticed a lot of the lorries had "HORN OK PLEASE" written on the back. I've worked out that it's definitely considered good practice to sound your horn to alert other drivers of your position. Things like staying in lane or using your mirrors are just unnecessary.

The taxi driver had just got in and drove off. We hadn't exchanged a word so far. I was desperate to break the silence, and all I could think of was the very British "So, what's the weather like?" He said "heh" and forced a smile, then asked "Where you go?" - he hadn't understood at all.

The road didn't have a definite edge - it just merged into an area of people, shoddy looking stalls and piles of rubble. It was fairly late at night, but there were people EVERYWHERE. On the way, we drove through what can only be described as slums. Along the side of the road, huts had been rigged up with scaffolding and plastic sheeting. Men, women and children were sitting out on the pavement socialising, cooking their dinner on little stoves, or washing in the gutter.

I was staying in an area called Colaba at the very south tip of the peninsula. This is the posh part of the city, so the buildings are more...well...permanent, but it was just as busy. My taxi driver didn't know where the hotel was, so I had to get out and walk. This petrified me. The hotel I'd booked hadn't actually saved a room for me, so I went to find another one. It was a big relief when I was finally able to collapse onto the bed. I must have been suffering from what they call 'culture shock': I think it's an actual condition, not just an idea. All the experience and confidence I'd garnered over 6 months had suddenly disappeared, and I lay there worrying about everything. I wouldn't be able to leave any valuables in my locked room - they were bound to get stolen. And I shouldn't trust the hotel safes either. I was taking antimalarials, but I could still theoretically get malaria. Mosquitoes could come in through the window and bite me at any moment - maybe I should buy a mosquito net? And I had some broken skin from where I'd been picking insect bites - when I washed all the disease in the tap water would infect them and I'd probably die.

I woke up very early the next morning. I thought I'd have a walk around while the streets were nice and quiet. No such luck: even at 6.30 there were tons of people about. The area where I was staying was built by the British colonialists and is filled with grand old buildings. At pavement level it there was lots of mess and rubble, but when I focused above this, it reminded me uncannily of London. It wasn't just the buildings - it was also the stately wide streets and pavements, and the big trees. I walked along the waterfront to the 'Gateway to India' (below). Here, several people offered me boat trips or city tours. I returned to my hotel room and took refuge there for the rest of the morning.

Another Indian passtime I have to mention is the spitting. This is done a) all the time and b) loudly. A spit is always preceded this a noise I can't quite describe - I'll have to demonstrate it in person. Imagine you're trying to clear a hair from the back of your throat, then amplify this 10 times. It was so loud. I would be sitting in my room, which was a few stories up, with the indistinct sounds of the city drifting through the window, and every so often an almighty HWWACCCCHHHHHHH would cut over all the other sounds. They weren't at all embarrassed about making the sound - in fact, sometimes they'd do it while staring straight at you. It felt like you were about to be spat on.

By the afternoon I was feeling confident enough to venture out again, so I walked to the train station to buy a ticket. (Incidentally, the station in amazing: see photo below). There I was treated to another lesson in local customs: queuing. I tried to use an information window to find out where the hell I was supposed to go. On the first attempt, the man was talking on the phone with his feet up, and was waving everyone away. On the second attempt, I joined the jostling crowd. You really do have to push people out of the way to make any progress, and even when you get to the window, people crowd around you and lean in from both sides. Then I needed to make a phone call. I went to a little hut with two booths inside. The only people waiting were me and one other man, so we formed a queue of two just outside the door. Another man walked up and without any hesitation stood directly in front of me, in the doorway...so he went next. I needed several attempts at the phoning because I couldn't get through; on a later attempt I had learned my lesson and stood directly under the doorway. This time a man came up right behind me, and when the booth on my left became free, he barged in. I made a half-hearted protest. He said "Please. Please," in an indignant manner, as if that made it reasonable, and went in.

Later I saw a news report about a survey of the rudest cities in the world. Mumbai came top of the list. It was hilarious: the Indian news channel had sent a camera out onto the streets, and everyone was shocked and indignant: "I don't agree with that at all." "There must have been a problem with the survey." I felt like emailing in and putting the record straight.

Some of the other things I did: I visited the Ghandi museum. I learned a lot I hadn't known about him, and realised he was undoubtedly one of the great men of the 20th century. I took a boat to 'Elephanta Island', where there were caves with 1500 year old rock carvings. These were incredible. The largest image was of the god Shiva looking infinitely calm and serene. I visited the museum and modern art gallery - the museum had an excellent audio guide with a very enthusiastic and patronising narrator. I also spent some time walking around the nice part looking at the colonial architecture. There were some really fantastic buildings. This is the railway station.

Being white turned out to be a bit of an impediment. You got bombarded by shouts from all angles. I would be walking along, minding my own business and would hear "Yes Sir?" or "Yes please?", as if I'd walked up to that person looking expectant. The one which has always annoyed me is "Yes friend?" when I don't even know the person, far from being their friend! The waterfront by the Gateway to India was the worst area. It brought to mind zombies: I would be walking along and people would appear from nowhere on each side, and kind of lurch towards me moaning something indecipherable. The other Indians weren't getting this treatment - it was just me. I tried a few differnet routes through the streets, but for each of these there were people lying in wait. I wished they'd leave me alone! I began to dread venturing outside to make the simplest short journey. In Britain, you don't appreciate how amazing it is to be able to walk down the street and be totally ignored.

I ended up staying there for 5 days. On the fifth day I woke up needing the toilet surprisingly badly. I made my way to the toilet sleepily...then more urgently... and nearly made it in time. It was diarrhoea. I'd been in perfect health for five and a half months, but I suppose when travelling in India, it was inevitable it wouldn't last. The only problem was the inconvenience - I was scared to go out anywhere because I thought I'd need to be near a toilet all the time. Actually, my anti-diarrhoea tablets worked wonders and I didn't go to the toilet for days! I had an unashamedly easy day, spending my time in restaurants, cafes, internet cafes and the cinema watching Mission Impossible III.

In the evening I set off for the station to catch my train. A man struck up a conversation with me while I was walking along. I've got used to what people sound like when they're trying to con you, and this man didn't sound self-assured enough. My gut feeling was that he was being friendly. I kind of lost him...then at the station he appeared behind me in a queue saying "so, we meet again." I had to catch a local train to another station, then walk a few hundred metres to finally reach my departure station. He implied that he was going the same way as me, and offered to show me the way "Then you'll have a friend to wave you off." I didn't really want him too, but was too polite/pathetic to say this. He asked me to buy him a ticket for the local train. It's this point that I should have told him to bugger off, but for some reason I complied. I hate it when you know someone is up to something, but you can't work out what, so you don't know how to deal with it. So I sat on the train, feeling uncomfortable, replying monosyllablically to his attempts at conversation, and wondering if him and the others seated around were going to conspire to steal my bag. We got off at the appropriate station, and he led me through a crush of people down some stairs and on to a chaotic street. We were into slum zone - there was hardly space to move because of the people and rickshaws, and it wasn't at all obvious which way I should go for this other station. But the man led me there no problems. I was now sure that he'd be asking for money; well that was fine, I just wouldn't give him anything. But then I began to think....hmmm....maybe this was quite helpful....I wouldn't have fancied making the journey on my own. Maybe I should give a bit.

Sure enough, he asked for a 'tip' at the end, and I gave him 20 rupees. He said "Wh...what's this?" Hah! I think he may even have been properly shocked, rather than just acting. He demanded more. I refused, telling him that he'd implied he was just guiding me as a friend. I may even have delivered the cutting line "I'm disappointed with you." He finally gave up and I headed to the platform, absolutely furious about being conned like that, and hating India and all Indians. If I'd been in a more reasonable mood, I might have considered that I'd 'won': I'd paid 20 rupees (25p) for a guide all the way to the station; he'd earned a fraction of what he was expecting and was now in the middle of nowhere.

The train was an overnight job to Mount Abu. I didn't think I'd get any sleep, with the uncomfortableness, the anger, and the fear of my bag being stolen (it was just loose under my bed). But I did...until I was woken in the middle of the night by an old man with a turban repeating "37, 38. 37, 38." right outside my curtain. He was trying to work out where he was sleeping. I was in berth 37. The curtain was then uncerimoniously pulled back, leaving me dazzled and confused. But he'd got the wrong carriage and went away, so I slept well after that.

McLeod Ganj, India

I arrived in Bangkok just one day too late. The whole country was in the process of celebrating 60 years of the King's rule. This was an absolutely huge event. The evening before I'd arrived, there had been a procession of the royal barges along the river. This would have been cool to see. But the festivities were still very much in evidence when I arrived. The official colour of the celebrations was yellow, for some reason, and there was yellow everywhere! The city looked fantastic. Yellow flowers had been planted which were now in bloom, there were yellow fairy lights at night, and there were loads of King 'displays', which looked like this.

This isn't a dictator style personality cult thing or anything. The King doesn't have any power, like in Britain...but the public absolutely love him. Everywhere you looked people had created their own spontaneous 'we love the King' displays, and literally half the people I saw around the city were wearing yellow t shirts bearing the official elblem. I bought one for myself to get in on the act, and managed to get a bit of banter from the locals about it.

When I arrived at my gueshouse, the whole atmosphere of the area made me really happy. It seemed less developed, more informal, and reminded me of what it was like in South America. I was staying on a small street tucked away beind a monastry, but in the heart of the travellers' ghetto. From my room there was a fantastic view over the monastey, with its shiny golden rooms. The guesthouse had a cafe on the ground floor that opened up onto the street and the prices were wonderfully low, so that was a great place to sit and watch life go by on the street. There was a stall right below my window selling bootleg CDs: this provided entertainment for me by pumping out music all day - quite a good mix actiually. There were loads of food stalls selling interesting and unidentifiable foods, including one I'm sure was selling insects. There were funnily dressed women wandering around trying to sell tacky souvineers to the tourists. There were bars and restaurants all along the street with outdoor seating. My only regret was that I was on my own and didn't have anyone to share the experience with; it would have been awesome to sit outside, have a drink and take in the atmosphere.

Whereas in New Zealand I'd happily go out in the morning and not come back until the evening, here I had to conduct my sightseeing very differently. The days were structured around ways of keeping cool, and I really looked forward to taking a cold shower, sitting in the air conditioned internet cafe or having a cold drink in the cafe. I had thought it was hot in Japan and Hong Kong, but this was way worse.

The first time I ventured out for a walk, I had about three different men trying the same trick on me. He would ask where I was from and be all friendly, then suggest a list of places in Bangkok I should see. Then he'd say I could get a cheap tour of the sights on a tuk-tuk (those 3 wheeled scooter/taxi things). But only a certain type did the tours. He'd scan the road "Is that one?....no....". Then he would notice the tuk-tuk that had just pulled in right next to where we were standing. "Oh look! There's one." Finally, the tuk-tuk driver would come and shake my hand and try to usher me in. This got really frustrating. It would be fine if they asked me straight up if wanted a tour, then I could refuse. But instead I had to go through the tedious process of trying to be polite while they make idle chat, when I just want them to leave me alone. I got the hang of ignoring them, though.

I hadn't really known what there was to see in Bangkok, but I was amazed when I saw some of the buildings there. The temples made the those in Japan look positively plain.
There were also some slightly cheesy attractions, like a 40 metre high standing Buddha, and a...it must have been 50 metres long...reclining Buddha. The top attraction, however, was undoubtedly the Grand Palace. When I approached this, another 'friendly' man told me it was closed until the afternoon and offered me a tuk-tuk tour. This made me really depressed - damn Thailand with its erratic opening hours. It also messed up my plans for the day. I thought I'd walk further along the outer wall just to make sure...I came to the main entrance which was very much open and very busy. What a nasty man. But inside the palace...it was like a fairytale wonderland. Huge buildings with gold and colourfulness and glitteryness everywhere. It looked more impressive than the above photo...but there wasn't really one shot that would have captured it all. But I could have pointed my camera in any random direction, and the photo would have been amazing.

There were monks everywhere in Bangkok and they certainly stoood out with their orange robes and shaven heads. As far as I understand, every male is expected to train as a monk for at least 3 months, kind of like military service. Some do it for much longer.

On one of the days I decided to go and check out the modern, commercial area - I thought it might be quite nice and provide a contrast to the less developed areas. To get there I took a ride along the canal. This was an experience. It wasn't a proper boat - more like an enlarged canoe with a motor on the back. You had to sit on the bottom and there was next to no leg room, so you had to tuck your legs right up to your body. Therefore my spine was curved outwards and pressed painfully against the wooden divide. The canal absolutely stank - you noticed it as soon as you got near it. Worse, as the boat skimmed along, spray flew up into the boat. Luckily, they provided some pads which were just adequate to fend off the water from your face.

When I got to this area, it wasn't nice in any sense of the word - just more modern and on a bigger scale than the rest of Bangkok. While I was here I decided to watch X men 3, which I'd been considering doing for a while. I thought it was good...but the most exciting part of the experience was the cinema itself. By chance, I'd booked for the showing in the luxury cinema. My chair was literally an armchair, and I got a pillow and blanket. I found some buttons which electronically reclined the chair. I kept the button held down...suddenly a foot rest sprang up, and the chair just kept going back...until it was almost a bed!

On 16th June, I took a night train to Chiang Mai, in the north of the country. Chiang Mai is a pleasant historical city, with a moat around the city centre. At the first temple I visited, I saw a poster advertising a Buddhist meditation course. It started that afternoon, included an overnight stay in the monastery, and finished the next day. I realised I really wanted to do it. I'd been exposed to so much Buddhism that I wanted to learn more about it; and it would do me good to clear my mind and do a bit of meditation. So I phoned up to book a place. In the afternoon I walked all the way over to the monastary in the heat, about half an hour (I could have got a tuk-tuk for about 75p, but I was still being ridiculously cautious about my budget). When I arrived, I was told that poster was out of date, and the course was now at a different time of the week. They hadn't mentioned this on the phone and I was really disappointed - I'd been looking forward to it.

After that I was in a funny mood - there was loads I could have done, but I couldn't be bothered to organise it/was worried it wouldn't be very good, and I was also feeling a bit lonely. So I was very indecisive and didn't get much done over the next 2 days. I visited some really nice temples (although there's only so many temples you can visit without tiring of them.)

My last day, however, was very busy. I'd booked a one day excursion to the surrounding area. In my negative mood, I didn't expect it to be very good...but it turned out to be great. We visited a couple of indigenous villiages, which probably now survive solely on tourism. We then had a ride on elephants, which was incredibly unstable and scarey. They went up and down such steep muddy slopes, I was sure they'd slip at any moment.

We also did some bamboo rafting. The rafts were literally bits of bamboo lashed together. So there was nothing at all to stop water coming through and wetting you. We went through some fast bits, I did a bit of punting which is always good, and the guides splashed everyone with their punt poles. It was fun. And as a bonus, it was a great group of people doing the tour with me.

Back in Chiang Mai, I had a couple of hours before I had to catch the train. I squeezed in a visit to the night market to buy some souvineers, then a traditional Thai massage. I was short of time, so I negotiatied a half hour massage instead of the usual hour. Thank god it was only half an hour. At first it was quite ticklish and I found it hard to stay still and impossible to relax. Then she started putting her hands on my back and applying her entire weight...and she wasn't a petite woman. I felt my ribcage slowly being crushed. So not at all relaxing, but a fun experience. I caught the night train back to Bangkok; but cunningly I didn't go all the way into Bangkok and instead got out at the airport. I then had about 5 hours to kill before my flight to Mumbai - this wasn't a problem.

Mount Abu, India

I arrived in Hong Kong on 10th June. I had booked a cheap hotel over the internet. It was in Kowloon, a district on the mainland just north of the island which contains the city cente. When I arrived in Kowloon, I scanned the street in the area where it should have been, and my eyes came to rest on the shittiest looking building in the street. It looked like a bomb had hit it. My hotel was in there. I caught the lift to the 15th floor and found the reception. This was merely a desk inside a door; the room stretched further back into the building - dingy and narrow with bunks on each side. I couldn't believe it when I was shown to one of these bunks. I had at least expected a room with a door I could lock, not this...area which anyone could walk into. I'd had a long journey and would have loved to relax, but didn't feel particularly relaxed in there. The alternative was to go out somewhere...but I hated the idea of leaving my bag unattended there. In summary, I wasn't happy.

I took my valuables with me and walked down to the waterfront to find the tourist information office. Indian men kept aprehending me and asking me if I wanted a tailor (did I really look that badly dressed? (yes.) ) If not that, they'd ask if I wanted a cheap watch. Looking back now that I'm used to India, I'm wondering what the problem was. But I remember at the time I really didn't like it. Arriving in Hong Kong had actually come as a huge culture shock. I'd been expecting it to be similar to Japan, but in many ways it was much less developed and more chaotic.

The tourist information people told me about some big screens in shopping centres which were showing the football. (Today was England's first match, v Paraguay). I set off to find them using the underground system. I like the underground trains there. They have a very clean and efficient feel to them, partly because the insides of the carriages aren't plastered with adverts. In the train is a map of the whole network with a light for each station; little arrows show you where the train is going, and whole lines flash when you can interchange to them. That pleased me. The shopping centres, however, were depressing and I decided I didn't want to watch the football there. I continued round the subway and ended up on Hong Kong island proper. I found an internet cafe, went to the website where I'd booked the hotel, and reread its review. It said "If you want somewhere a bit nicer, then we recommend you stay at x or y. Now, if you're still reading, you're clearly looking for the cheapest place in town...this is the place for you...etc." I guess I should have read between the lines. I looked at the comments customers had posted, and they all said security was good at the hotel. This made me feel a lot better about staying there.

I then went across to an area with lots of western-style bars, which had been invaded by the English. I watched England v Paraguay there, which was fun.

Do you remember the woman, Memie, who I met at a hotel in Quito back in February? She said I should give her a call when I got to Hong Kong. Well, I had done just that, so the next day we met up and she showed me around. First we visited the Chinese University of Hong Kong where she works. We had a delicious Cantonese-style meal at the staff restaurant, which Memie paid for. Then we went to do a 'heritage trail' in an outlying village. I was excited about getting out of the city and seeing what the 'countryside' part of Hong Kong was like. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite like this. Urban sprawl had enveloped everything, and the 'village' could just me made out as an area of smaller and older buildings. We walked around and saw some nice temples...but they looked very abandoned and run down. It's a shame the authorities have neglected this aspect of the city and its tourism potential, especially when you compare it to the other aspects of the city which are clearly swimming in wealth. It was a very enjoyable day and great having a local guide, and it was so good of Memie to give up all that time for someone she'd met for 5 minutes, so I was very grateful.

I'd heard about a laser show in the evening, so I walked down to the waters edge. Before then I hadn't even been able to see across the harbour to Hong Kong island, it was so misty. Now it had cleared up. I saw the skyline for the first time and was absolutely dazzled - it looked something like this:

It was so bright and colourful and...I guess...futuristic. I'd never seen anything like it before. I just caught the end of the laser show. Music was playing and lasers were flashing from along the waterfront, and also from all the way across the harbour from the top of some of the skyscrapers. Because of the huge distance between the lasers, it seemed magic that they were perectly synchronised, and it made an impressive spectacle. I stood in awe for a moment, then realised it wouldn't be that difficult to set up. At the end a recorded voice announced triamphantly 'Thank you for watching "A Symphony of Light" ' which made me snigger because of the cheesyness. There's actually quite a lot of cheese evident in Hong Kong: the area from where I was watching is was called "The Avenue of Stars" and they've done that thing where they get film stars to put their hand prints in slabs on the ground.

I had one more full day in Hong Kong and I crammed quite a lot in.First I took the ferry across to Hong Kong island and looked around. The area immediately by the dock looks like a world class financial centre. All the big companies have their own flashy skyscraper, and at ground level it's all perfectly manacured parks and arial walkways connecting the buildings. I then hopped on a tram. Literally two blocks along, the contrast is incredible. Suddenly you're in a bustling, chaotic Asian city. Every inch of space above the street is filled with those huge, colourful signs with confusing Chinese letters. The pavements are packed with market stalls and a mass of people.

I then decided to go up the mid-levels escalators. The city spreads backwards up the mountain. It's a bit of a slog up there...so why put people to all that effort when you can just install some escalators! I found the concept very exciting. Half way up I stopped at an Indian restaurant and had the most amazing all you can eat buffet lunch. I felt quite sorry for them: they had all this beautifully presented food spread out and it was all totally untouched, because I was their only customer. I'm glad I helped them get through a bit of it. I then continued to the top of the escalators which was something of an anticlimax - it just ends at a normal street. I then got caught in the biggest rain storm and got saturated. I took shelter in the zoo and pondered how good that it's freely open for people to walk through. I think most of the animals were sheltering, though. I then got distracted by a walk-through aviary before finally reaching my destination: the Museum of Tea Ware. That place was amazing. I'd faffed so much that I only had 45 minutes before it closed - I really wish I could have had longer. I had no idea that tea goes back so far in history, nor that there were so many types of tea. When I came out, I really wanted a cup of tea, so I visited the frightfully expensive and posh tea rooms next door. I tried one of the weird varieties I'd learned about in the museum. The teapot was about the size of a fist, and the cup the size of a thimble. The waitress went through this elaborate routine which included pouring water into the pot then pouring it all out - this was repeated about 6 times before I got to drink it. The tea wasn't that great, but it was a fun experience.

In the evening, I took the tram up the mountain in the centre of the island. This was spectacular: there was the same dazzling array of colourful skyscrapers as the night before, but now I was looking at them from above.
I must mention the obsession with shopping centres. There are no shops on the streets - they're exclusively defined to generic, sterile, enclosed, air-conditioned shopping centres. You'll never find a simple subway to cross a road - instead you'll use a subteranian shopping centre. If you try to cross a road over a bridge, the walkway will continue into the first floor of the building, and you'll find yourself in a shopping centre. There was even one at the top of the mountian. I picked up a tourist map and it had some suggested itineries you could follow during your stay in Hong Kong: a 'sightseeing itinerary', an 'eating itinerary' and a 'shoping itinerary'. I just think that attitude defies belief - why would you come to a city halfway across the world with a vibrant culture and some incredible sights, then spend all your time in a shopping centre identical to one in any westen city?

During the night, the air-conditioning was on in the room. Stepping out of the door in the morning was just incredible - it was like stepping into a sauna. It must have been the most humid conditions I've ever experienced. My glassed steamed up immediately. I would have loved to take a photo of the hotel building to show how bad it looked, but this was impossible. Within a second my camera lens was totally fogged up. I had one more sight, a giant seated Buddha, that I wanted to visit before my flight. But it was hot, sticky, misty and I was carrying my backpack, so it clearly wasn't the ideal conditions for sightseeing. I took the train, then a bus - getting there took nearly 2 hours. Then I slogged up a huge flight of stairs, to greeted by this view:
It was so misty that, despite standing right next to it, I couldn't even see the Buddha. So it had been a total waste of time...but quite funny. I caught a bus and after another hour travelling, I was at the airport.