Shanghai'd

As many of you may know already, we are planning a trip to Tibet. This will be our last harrah in China, a kind of go out with a bang, save the best for last, final chance to see something majestic that is at our doorstep right now. Tibet recently re-opened to tourists. As the torch relay went up Everest, and China wasn't taking any chances and it was closed for months. We were a bit nervous for a while, but now we are almost sure we will be making the trip this October.

We will be joining a tour group for this one. We signed up for a 3-week trip, starting in Lhasa, and mountain biking over the Tibetan Plateau up to Everest base camp, descending into and ending in Kathmandu, Nepal. It will be 16 days on the bike, averaging 65km/day, camping out along the Friendship highway, with time at each end in the cities (in hotels with beds!). See below for the altitude map:


Yes, those altitudes are in meters. (1m=3.25ft) Riding starts on day 6. Yes, this is our idea of fun - check out the downhills on the last few days! Needless to say, we are going to need to do some training to be ready for this one. Now let me show an altitude map of Shanghai:

0m _____________________________________

Yes, that is also in meters. But it could be feet, or inches. Shanghai is at sea level. Pudong, where we live, is sinking. How, you ask, can we train to ride in the Himalayan Mountains, at altitude, in arid desert conditions of the Tibetan Plateau, for October temperatures (close to freezing at night) this summer? Shanghai is flat as a pancake, at sea level, 90+% humidity, and 85 degrees at 6am through September. This is the challenge. The one point that will feel will be comparable is the oxygen level; Tibet will have oxygen deprivation due to altitude, in Shanghai we get it through pollution.

We are getting in a lot of saddle time, riding to and from work, and using weekends and at least one morning during the week to get in some extra kms. At least we won't be saddle sore. The biggest lacking component will be the hill training, but I think we figured out something that might help us prepare, and we tried it this morning.

Simulated Hill Training in Shanghai, How to:
1. Wait for a Typhoon to strike Taiwan. The winds will pick up.
2. Check a flag or laundry hanging from neighboring apartment to confirm the direction of the wind. Most likely it will be coming from the south.
3. Head south. Preferably a road with a lot of overpasses or bridges (provide a few inclines).
4. You are now riding "up hill". Turn around. "Down hill".

We trained in today's typhoon. Not only the the unfortunate weather make for good training, it also makes for very clear skies. While Taiwan was getting walloped, our skies were pollution-free, with big puffy clouds. The humidity dropped. Last night's full moon was so bright, crisp and clear, it rivaled the sun's showing most days (sad, but true). It's now Saturday afternoon, and while the wind remains, the clear skies are gone. It's starting to sprinkle, and the Typhoon Kalmaegi will hit us soon. We don't expect more than some wind and rain. Hopefully nothing to prevent us from riding Monday :-)

Laurel already wrote about our recent Wuyi Shan trip, but I thought a pictorial account might give everyone a greater appreciation for the quintessentially Chinese "famous destination" trip.

Don't get me wrong, Laurel and I love traveling in China (though we usually try to get a little more off the beaten track than Wuyi Shan). Some things are just, shall we say, culturally different. And some things just plainly absurd and demand mocking no matter where you're from. Such as:

Lines, which are not necessarily proportional to the impressiveness of the destination.





Megaphones. Unnecessary at a peaceful tea tasting you say? WRONG!



Bamboo rafting. Actually quite enjoyable as Laurel previously noted.



Completely inappropriate hiking clothing/footwear.



Here's Laurel eying her surprisingly popular choice of spandex ass pants and heels.



Ridiculous Chinglish signage. I almost feel guilty about posting this one because it's like shooting fish in a barrel. And this sign isn't really THAT terrible compared to many.



The "hard sleeper" train. 6 bunks to a room, no door. Actually much more comfortable than it sounds/looks.



And finally, one adorable picture of us. Ahhh.

1. Noise. Dǎoyóu had a microphone on the bus, providing us with constant updates, tidbits of information, and schedule plans. When off the bus, there was a megaphone to do the same. That man could talk. And who can enjoy any kind of nature without blasting the lastest pop songs on your MP3 player?
2. Flags. We had 2 of them to follow where ever we went. Dǎoyóu: "Over here NI" while waving said flag.
3. Lines. Climbing the mountain. Maybe 2 steps every 5 minutes. Someone puking into a bag (altitude sickness at 600m?). Umbrellas poking you in the eye. No, it was not raining.
4. Bamboo Raft. What trip to a river would be worth anything without a bamboo raft? This one was awesome. Really. The water was clear and cool, and you could put your feet in.
5. Farmer food. This is quite possibly the best food you can get in China, and it is only to be found outside of the cities. Our first lunch was wild pork, local mushrooms, bamboo shoots, and firey peppers. And the rice, oh, the rice is GOOOOOD.
6. Obligatory visits to the state-run souvenir shops. First they show you how to make tea or snake oil. Then they sell it to you. You better not even think about leaving until someone buys some freaking wulong. Weaving through the souvenir shop at the end of the tour, this is the only time the bus will be late.
7. Chinese hotel breakfast. Let's just say I would prefer pancakes. At least there is lunch at the farmer's house.
8. Unabashed, heartbreaking, horrible, disgusting waste. At dinner, before getting on the train, of pre-cooked, unidentifiable meats and morsels. This is when you are glad for the ...
9. Local Fruit! Those ladies with the carts will come to YOU with their juicy lychees at 20 cents a pound. Load me up!
10. Great memories, and a good notion to never do this again, as we roll into the Shanghai Station at 5:45am Monday morning. And we won't. Until next time, that is...

Olympic Tickets.

We have them. Physically. We entered the first of 3 'lotteries' well over a year ago, selecting our top 10 Olympic events and dates and requesting tickets. I secretly think the lotteries were marketing research schemes to figure out how to price the tickets. Anyway, we were chosen for 5 events. Woohoo! That was 12 months ago. Then we waited to get our tickets. All the while wondering if we were really going. Was the online system reliable? The credit card we used had been charged, but since then canceled, could we still pick up the tickets? Characteristically, the website offered little condolance, other than that the tickets would be available around June 2008, and we would receive an email letting us know when to retrieve them. We started making plans, even booking and paying in full for our hostel during the games (3 bed dorm in 9 dragon's hostel, comes with a 5x mark-up). Still no tickets. Finally the email arrived. They were ready to be picked up.

Even at that point, I was only 50/50 that we were really going. Horror stories were posted on local blogs, if your name on your passport and credit card didn't match completely (including middle name) you were out of luck. And then there was the question of picking them up at the bank. Bank lines in China are notoriously insane, you can spend 4 hours changing currency. We planned a Tuesday over (long) lunch to go pick up the tickets.

The bank ended up being our local bank of China, about a mile from home. We entered around lunch time, and were pointed to a back table laden with Olympic pamphlets and maps. No line. We presented Tim's passport. A scan was taken and 2 minutes later we had an envelope of 10 heavy card stock tickets, for all the right events and days. Five minutes later, we were back in the glaring sun, hot summer day, slightly dumbstruck. That was IT? By far the best bank experience ever. AND.... we are going to the Olympics :)

Here are the events we will attend, look for us on TV. We'll be in the nosebleed section. Market research showed that people won't pay too much for those àoyùnhuì de piào.

18 August, 10:00 - 12:45 Women's Triathlon
18 August, 19:00 - 22:10 Athletics
19 August, 10:00 - 12:35 Men's Triathlon
20 August, 09:00 - 10:50 Beach Volleyball - men's/women's? we don't know, hope for women's
20 August, 19:00 - 22:00 Baseball - unfortunately, we can't go to this one!

Cupping.

I've been compiling a list of crazy things I need to try before leaving China. Things like eating a durian fruit (check), trying stinky tofu (done and done) and other things that don't involve eating foul smelling food. Things like acupuncture (yet to be crossed off the list) and ba huo guan, another form of traditional Chinese medicine. For those not turned on to the wonders of TCM, fire cupping basically involves using a small flame to create a vacuum inside of a circular glass cup that is then attached to the skin. The vacuum causes the skin to be sucked up into the cup, along with all the toxins and bad chi in your body. Or so the acupressure theory goes at least.

I first became aware of cupping our first summer in Shanghai when we made a trip to the local water park and spotted tons (dozens?) of people with the characteristic round bruises down both sides of the spine. At first I thought it must be one of those famous Chinese torture treatments we all grow up fearing - like bamboo shoots under the fingernails or Jackie Chan movie marathons on TNT.

In fact, many Chinese swear by cupping, especially to help fight off a cold. Feeling the telltale gan mao tingle in the back of my throat this week, I couldn't resist the opportunity to give it a try myself. First, I was a bit disappointed to find that most places now use a pump instead of the traditional small fire to create the vacuum. Something about being less "dangerous". Honestly the element of danger was half the appeal for me, but after a few minutes of having all 17 of those puppies sucking my backside as tight as a drum, I quickly dismissed the idea that this was somehow less adventurous.

The results? Besides the obvious:


I must say my cold felt a bit better the next day and I woke up invigorated. Maybe more to do with the hour long preparatory oil massage than the 15 minutes of cupping, but who am I to argue with thousands of years of TCM. All in all, much better than your standard Guantánamo waterboarding session.

UPDATE: Day 2 the welts are receding a bit but holding on pretty strong.

For those of you that haven't seen Tim recently, he's grown a bit of facial hair. It started after the wedding, just doing weekly trims instead of clean shaving. I like the scruffy look, so this worked. Then, after our last trip to Austin, he was inspired by all the impressive and credibility-delivering beards, and the weekly trimming stopped. For 2 months, he let it go. Now, Tim has many strengths, but sadly growing a full-on beard is not one of them. The 2-month project could have been completed by any Mediterranean man within hours. But when compared to the growing efforts of the Chinese, it was a decent showing. I'm not going to say I loved it, but it was different. And I do love the long shaggy hair on his head. Big improvement over my haircuts.