Halls of the Dead

Yangzi River, China

The first day was all about the dead. Even before we entered the first of the Gorges we stopped at what was announced as the "City of Ghosts". What was this? The Lonely Planet didn't have the answer. I had to trust the guides. It was to be a large Taoist temple complex dedicated to the god of the underworld. That sounded cool. Besides, who wouldn't like to be able to say: "I've been to the City of Ghosts"?
I was a bit disappointed with the guided tour. My Chinese vocabulary is still quite limited when it comes to culture and religion. The tour guide just went through her regular routine - in machine-gun-Mandarin. It seemed to be more of a nuissance to her having a foreigner in her group. When she was giving out the tickets outside the entrance she called all Chinese tourists by name. When I told her my Chinese name (under which I was registered) she didn't even listen, just said to her colleague: "Give the foreigner his ticket." Had I heard that right? It may be a small thing but it upset me. So much that I wanted tell people about it but my phone had run out of credit.
The attraction itself was a mixed experience. Ways up to the temple buildings were lined with bizarre, otherworldly guardians of the dead. I loved taking pictures of them and would have loved even more to be able to ask someone about them. The temples themselves, however, were far from spectacular. Workers were rude and much of the grounds had been converted into a cheap underworld freak show made up from (now broken and decayed) paper mache stand-ups. There was even a ghost ride but that was just too cheesy. How much had I paid for this again - 80 RMB??

The next excursion was late that night and, sadly, quite a waste of time. This was to be the Temple of Zhang Fei, ally and oath brother of Liu Bei during the period of the Three Kingdoms. After his assasination his body was buried here while his head rests somewhere in Sichuan Province. A common thing in those days apparently to bury head and body seperately. This was also where I first met Jacques.
We arrived so late that it was already pitch black outside. Photos were difficult because of the lighting, some of the temple was already closed and it was not really a historic building either. Aside from a pretty sculpture of the "oath in the peach garden" and a few lessons on Three Kingdoms history there was not much to gain from this place; after half an hour we were out again.
The way that led up to the temple was lined with souvenir sellers. That wasn't so surprising. They would offer you anything from rusty confiscated Japanese swords to plastic toys for kids. What I found interesting was that a lot of sellers here offered volumes of erotic pictures, Chinese centerfolds. I can't remember seeing them for sale anywhere else and certainly not this openly and in such numbers. They didn't even looks like the kind of smut you'd expect to be sold under the counter. Something like you'd expect to see in the Playboy magazine, I guess. It was interesting to observe how other tourists would discretely peek at them. Few would probably admit to picking one up, so I won't either.

Afterwards me and Jacques still spent another hour eating some food bought at the landing, drinking a beer and getting to know each other. I knew I was going to regret this - the next day would start very early.

Cruising the Great River

Yangzi River, Chongqing to Yichang, China

By many standards this is a must-do while in China - cruising the mighty Yangzi River (known here as the Long River - 长江). Downstream from Chongqing all the way to Yichang the river cuts through mountains forming a series of deep canyons, the Three Gorges. The river also forms the southern border of the territory the Han civilisation originates from. The cruise was high priority on my list of things to do. I had actually already booked it at the hostel in Xi'an for fear of not getting tickets (a worry that I keep having). The meeting point here (a hostel by the river) was not easy to find in the maze of alleys. Then, of course, there was the fright and big excitement of the earthquake. When things quieted down a bit I was led on board.
Now, this was a Chinese tour, supposedly less expensive than pure Western-organised ones. It actually turned out quickly that I was one of only three Westerners on board. This was a pleasant surprise; after Xi'an being full of backpackers I do enjoy such a purely Chinese environment. The other two were a young French man and a middle-aged American man. They didn't speak any Chinese at all, so in the days that followed it became common for the ship's attendants to call on me to translate. An interesting job - and of course a big boost for my ego.
Jacques, from Paris, turned out to be a very pleasant, quiet guy, who was easy to talk to. We ended up meeting for a chat and hanging around the ship during the day and having a beer or two before bed time in the evening. He used to be an accountant in Paris and had given himself a year and a half off. He'd been traveling a lot. Actually he had come all the way from Turkey to China on land. Obviously, he had a lot of interesting stories to tell - all without being pretentious at all.
The American guy - I never bothered to remember his name - turned out to be quite the opposite and faithful to the cliche. He'd been traveling extensively, he'd seen it all, done it all, knew it all. I was called to help his room mates communicate with him. He wanted to know some "good Chinese musicians". I translated, chatted politely. He had been to many countries, talked about some as if he had personally discovered them. Mongolian throat-singing? Yes, he knew that. In fact, he had "some excellent throat-singing right here" on his mp3 player. He reminded me of people that frequent the most expensive restaurants in town and then argue why the must be the best (because of the price). It actually made me wonder what else he did except traveling. In the end, I lost interest in his exploits and just translated.
In my free time, of which there was still a lot, I stayed on deck or went to the games room where many Chinese passengers played cards or Mah Jongg. This actually required an extra fee for the top decks and the games room, which I grudgingly paid. But I had watched people play and was eager to try it for myself. I quickly found out, however, that noone was willing to let a rookie foreigner join their game. So I watched and chatted with the pretty attendant girls. At least, one of them took some time to explain some rules and even play with me when there were no other customers. Eventually, I would just get kicked off the tables, though. It even almost got ugly once because a few other players just came up and just started shuffling the pieces I was still using. Only later I was told they had in fact booked the table - none of them actually mentioned it. Well, no use complaining, I wanted to be treated like a local. I guess, this kind of rudeness is what my Chinese friends used to complain about.
The rest of the time was filled with excursions. These were not included in the price and turned out quite expensive - plus, I was told to book and pay for them in advance. There were also quite a lot and the Lonely Planet for once had fairly little opinion to give on them. In good faith I signed up for those that sounded like culture. I had been reading the epic historic novel Three Kingdoms and some of it is set here along the river. That had me quite excited. The sights were to be sorely disappointing, though. So let this be a warning to those that will come after me.
As I wave Chongqing's night lights goodbye follow me through along the mighty Yangzi and through the Three Gorges.