So LOFT was pricey, but it was nice. But it was also pricey, so I got out quickly and found Mix Hostel, a cheaper place whose name I knew after seeing it plastered all over other parts of China. No seriously, I even saw "Mix Hostel Chengdu" spray painted on rocks in Tiger Leaping Gorge. Regardless, the place was great, albeit a little crowded. The internet was free, but the two computers were always in use and loaded with viruses, one which infected my thumb drive and wiped out the program I used to get around the Great Firewall of China. Dammit. The staff was friendly despite being visibly overworked. Food was so-so. Amenities decent. I got a dorm bed for half the price of LOFT and set up for the longest time I would spend in one place this whole trip.
Why? Well my next stop was Tibet, which was to be the cherry on the sundae of this whole trip. However, one cannot just stroll on into this political hotspot, oh no no no. First you need to organize the proper permits and join a "tour" so the government can keep tabs on you. See, they don't like people sympathizing with the Tibetans' desire for independence, a trend frequently observed amongst us wacky Westerners, so they make us jump through all kinds of hoops first before they'll allow us in. The permit and tour is one. Money is another. Getting in is expensive, so you'd better be ready to spend your hard-earned Maos. Finally, booking a train ticket to tibet is no easy task. A train leaves Chengdu bound for Lhasa every second day, so as soon as tickets become available, they immediately get bought up and resold on the black market, meaning if you're not there on day 1, you're buying from scalpers with a $40 commission fee.
Now, what hung me up and kept me deadlocked in Chengdu was both the money and the train ticket. Because tours are done in groups, I would've had to spend twice as much as anyone traveling with somebody else. My bank account was beginning to run on fumes so this would not do. Instead, I joined up with a group of 3 other people looking to depart on July 4, seven days from when I checked in, for a third of the price. Not to mention the fact that train tickets were unavailable for any date sooner. The choice seemed pretty clear. Seven days in Chengdu. There'd better be a lot to do.
There wasn't. Chengdu was a hot, muggy city with bland architecture and ugly construction blocking roads and snarling traffic. A far cry from the cool splendor of Kunming. Going out into this mess was frustrating, so I only really left the guesthouse when there was something I really wanted to check out.
My first day trip was to arguably the biggest sight of the city, the Giant Panda Research Base. I've never seen a live panda before so it could've been interesting. I had to wake up early to make it there in time for the 9am feeding. The weather was muggy and I couldn't tell if the sky was blotted out by overcast or pollution. The base was a little outside of town on a sprawling mass of land that had been fashioned into a kind of zoo. Lots of tourists of course.
The big guys all sat together chewing bamboo and lying on their backs. Such slow creatures. The bamboo is their only source of food and it's horribly low in nutritional content meaning they have to eat and sleep constantly to stay alive. I couldn't help but think that these things would have gone extinct naturally anyways had we not found them to be so damn cute and worth saving. The time I was there was apparently the only time in the day that they're actually somewhat active.
Further on, the base had a collection of red pandas who more closely resembled raccoons. Not too many people as interested in them sadly. It was a lot of walking and the occasional sight of a panda eating for the next hour. A Texan man and his very large family (in every possible interpretation) dominated the scene at one point. "Trip, Runner, John Michael Jr., scooch in close to your mother, I'm gonna set the timer."
Next we watched a very graphic movie about every aspect of breeding pandas, and I will say that it did a superb job of robbing those creatures of all their mystique. An Enya song kept playing during every interlude, sometimes overtop hilariously inappropriate footage. And the things they go through to breed these pandas. The success rate is like, 10% apparently. What the hell?
So did I leave with a new-found respect for pandas? NO. But it was funny and informative. Took up half of the day. I believe I spent the rest of that day hopping around the city to different flea markets trying to find another Rollei. Absolutely no luck. Big surprise.
I remember at some point during my time in Chengdu I discovered Sichuan barbeque. Kind of like the stuff I had in Shangri-La, but with a lot more ingredients. Pork, chicken, eggs, corn on the cob, cauliflower, green beans, rice cake, eggplant, whole fish, tofu, sausage, almost anything really. So good and so cheap, my nightly ritual consisted of heading out to the street corner and grabbing some before watching the World Cup game.
Things went rather routinely at the guesthouse. I got to know the staff and a few other travelers. I sampled most of the menu, watched a couple of movies. I raided their book collection and plowed through some easy reads (Island of Doctor Moreau, you didn't even last an afternoon). I got a fleeting taste of permanence and even made a few friends. Times at Mix became enjoyable rather than a wasted day.
One interesting excursion I went on was to People's Park. I don't quite recall why I went, but when I arrived, I was greeted with full on Commie anthems performed by several large groups of people, none under the age of 50 it appeared. Chinese flags were waved with aplomb and some even wore full military regalia. This wasn't just one big rally though. There were several of these talent shows going on all over the park. Some were hilarious while others were a total train wreck. The patriotism was so over the top. I couldn't help but think of a parallel event happening somewhere in Tennessee or something except with American flags and country music.
My next big excursion would be a full day affair. I joined a tour out to Leshan to see the biggest Buddha in the world. The group was good. Two Texans and three European girls, all mid-20s. The ride there was two hours along a foggy arterial highway and into a restaurant parking lot. Admission was 90 yuan, 50 with a student card; a discount I was determined to capitalize on at any cost. So I showed them my health card. Yep, University of Ontario. Worked like a charm and the others lamented the fact that they didn't try something similar. 90 yuan is a lot anyways (about 14 bucks).
The big Buddha was just that. A big Buddha. The stairs down towards the optimal viewing angle was choked with tourists. I'm not sure exactly how big the guy was, but I heard an arbitrary fact that he equaled around 32 Yao Mings. Each toe was about the size of a Buick. He ever so slightly resembled Krang's mechanical body suit from Ninja Turtles, an observation that the Texans enjoyed but was lost completely on he girls. Again, it was a muggy, overcast day, so the pictures didn't turn out terribly well. We walked around a bit more afterwards taking in a lovely temple and a lonely bridge. We all shared a late lunch before heading back. On the way back, the Texans and I made plans to have Sichuan hot pot for dinner.
Now, Sichuan was the province I was in, and the name might sound familiar, probably because you've read it on menus in Chinese restaurants. Sichuan is well-known for its food! Particularly its hot, spicy food, and I picked up on the reputation of Sichuan hot pot as soon as I got into Chengdu. The staff of Mix kept asking if I had tried it yet, and the bathroom stalls upstairs were scrawled with warnings of the damage hot pot wreaked the day after. "Hot pot = hot squat" was my favorite.
Nevertheless, the three of us charged in and ordered the hottest damn broth on the menu. When it arrived, it looked like Satan's bathwater. Deep red with hot peppers and Sichuan peppercorns floating on the surface. The waitress turned on the burner and it bubbled menacingly. Now, the idea is you order ingredients and cook them in the broth before mixing them with other ingredients in a bowl, then consuming. We got some meat here, some vegetables there, a few noodles. In they went, out they came, mixed a little the down the hatch. The heat creeped up slowly but reached fever pitch after about 5 minutes. We were dying and trying to put the flames out with beer. In fact, near the end, the sustained heat put everyone in a daze. Verdict: 5 out of 10. The heat far outweighed the taste of the dish, but the experience was worth it. A table of grown men weeping.
Like every other time, my new friends had to leave, but I befriended a pair of Israelis. I was in Chengdu for so long, I was beginning to notice the turnover. These guys loved soccer and made good conversation. We united in indignation towards the circumstances which caused Ghana to become eliminated from the World Cup. What would have been the winning goal was blocked by a Uruguayan player's hand, leading to a missed penalty kick, and a shootout which saw Uruguay emerging victorious. I decided that I did not feel the same way about soccer afterwards.
More days went by and the Israelis left. I couldn't wait to leave Chengdu and all but gave up on trying to do anything other than read and eat barbeque. The funny thing was, I had no idea IF I would even be going to Tibet, because despite the fact that I had already booked the tour, there was a chance that I would not be able to get a train ticket. As I mentioned, every ticket is pretty much sold on the black market, and when I booked the tour, I had the hostel bid on my behalf for a ticket, which was not always guaranteed.
On the last day, I received the good news that they managed to get me a ticket. However, the bidding war had gotten pretty fierce and I ended up paying DOUBLE. Didn't quite care though. I had come this far and there was no way the final days of my trip would be spent stewing in limbo and watching terrible bootleg DVDs. I was going to Tibet.
So I met who would be my travel companions for the next six days: a Brit named David who taught English in Chengdu and two plucky Norwegian girls, Lykke and Siri. The girls were all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and seemed to be pretty seasoned travelers. It's a bit nerve-racking meeting complete strangers who you'll have to live in close quarters with for the next six days, but no one gave off any crazy, creepy or annoying vibes. I was trying my best to do the same.
My last night in the hostel was spent packing. You know you've been there for a long damn time if you have to spend a night packing before you leave. I struck up a few conversations with some new arrivals, but my brain wasn't wholly into it. I was finally leaving Chengdu for what would be the coolest part of the whole trip.
Giant Panda Research Base. Look at the pandas!!
Nice try guys! That's a soccer ball!
People's Park. Uncle Ho waved the hell out of that flag.
Y'know what, screw it, I would totally do this if I could.
The big Buddha of Leshan rests stoically in his enclave of rock and tourist.
The dodgy steps down to Buddha's feet.
Our server brings the Sichuan hot pot. That there, on the left, is the face of incredulity.
Yeah this totally won't be a problem at all guys.
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