We arrived on top of the Great Wall of China at Jiankou, after two and a half hours of hard climbing up, to see one of the most impressive, spectacular man-made phenomenons I’d ever seen. I’d been to Machu Picchu, the ancient ruins of Rome and Ephesus in Turkey, and spent six months living in Paris. All were amazing. Yet for some reason, the shere magnitude and length of the wall just blew me away. It snaked up and down and around the ridge of the mountains for as far as the eye could see. For almost 4,000 miles in total, from east to west, across the Middle Kingdom. How the ancient Chinese indentured servants built this massive wall of rock and stone was a mystery to me. At first sight, it took my breath away.
After paying a few yuan to climb the last steps of a make-shift ladder, we finally stepped on the 2,000-year-old Wall. I took so many pictures it was impossible for me to edit them. So, I decided to put them all in the post. The good and the bad. Unfortunately the smog had not lifted and covered the Wall like a suffocating blanket. I wanted to cry at the “what if’s“. But I didn’t let myself go there for today was not the time to dwell on the poor visibility of the Wall. It was the time to cherish and marvel at one of mankind’s greatest creations.
After my first steps walking along the wall, I understood why it is called the “Great” Wall of China. It did not disappoint and proved my convictions that no matter how I felt about the rest of the trip, this one moment in time would make it all worth the journey.
Here are my photos, the good and the bad, as I entered and walked along the Wall. Come take a walk with me!
The end of the trail. Here is the last tower at Jiankou. You cannot go further in this direction past the tower as the trail is dangerous. (I am sure some adventurous souls do so, despite the absence of the Wall and a trail!).
The wall in the fog, headed towards Mutianyu, a fully restored and easily accessible part of the Wall.
Thirdeyemom (aka “me”) gets accosted by the Chinese paparazzi! These hikers nearly fell over when they saw me. A almost-forty-year-old-American-blue-eyed-blond! I couldn’t pass the hiking group and had to get my picture taken with at least ten people! It was hysterical! I realized that I would never ever want to be famous. What a drag!
I am laughing so much in this picture! As someone who is used to always “fitting” in, it felt strange to stand out in a crowd and capture so much attention.
This is inside one of many towers. The bottom level is where the military slept and the top level is where they kept lookout. It was cramped accommodations, as they had 20-30 men in each chamber. Luckily, the men would stay here for only a few months at a time and then return to the village for a month off while another group took over watch. This went on for many years.
My dad hiking the precarious unrestored section of the Wall.
View back towards the direction we came at Jiantou.
Our guide, Jackie, crossing over a bridge. The photo doesn’t do it justice. The Wall is relatively steep and high. The right side was for the invading Mongolians and the left side for the Chinese Empire. Per Jackie, one person died per meter of Wall built. The servants or slaves had to carry one of these large stones up hand by hand, the same route we came. Jackie told us that the first part of the Wall as built in only nine years time by over three million Chinese. It is an astounding 5,000 km long.
This cut-out was where the early Chinese militants would throw things at their prey. As time went by, they used guns to kill their enemies.
There are parts of the unrestored section that you have to get off the Wall and follow a trail. This picture was taken to show you the size of the stones that were carried on the servants backs to build the Wall, as well as the sheer size and height of the Wall. This goes for almost 4,000 miles!
The Jiantou section of the Wall has never been restored and dates back 600 years to the Ming Dynasty.
The Chinese had a rather intuitive system of alerts. They took advantage of the mountains and valleys that carried the sound. Thus, they used a call system to warn the army against a Mongolian invasion. During the daytime, they used smoke. At night, they used fire. During bad weather, they used sound. Per our guide extraordinaire, Jackie, here was the call system:
One stream of smoke meant 100 troops. Two streams of smoke meant 500 troops. Three meant 1000. Four meant 5,000. And, 5 meant 10,000+ troops or a massive invasion!
After walking across the unrestored section for a couple of hours, we finally entered the restored section of the Wall at Mutianyu. Mutianyu is a popular route for tourists as it has a gondola that whisks you up to the Wall. Clinton came here during his Presidency which the Chinese like to boast. Once on the Wall here, though, it is no walk in the park. It is still quite steep and at times, dangerously steep on the vertical stairwells leading up and down from the towers. Yet, the path is easier as you don’t have to manoeuver through shrubs and misplaced stones.
This section of the Wall is the restored area called Mutianyu. It is really too bad that the sun didn’t come up as I am certain the fall colors and the grandeur and scope of the Wall would have been sensational. Per Jackie, the Great Wall of China passes through nine provinces! If only I could see that far!
As we entered Mutianyu, along with the restored wall came more people. Obviously it is much easier to get here than at Jiantou! The crowds still dull in comparison to Badaling. Thank goodness I didn’t go there!
If only my pictures turned out and it was clear! You can vaguely see the lines of the Wall stretching up around the ridges of the mountains.
Along with the tourists, came the Chinese brides who took the gondola up dressed in white for their pre-wedding photos.
We Americans are superstitious and generally don’t get our photos until after the wedding. Normally it is considered bad luck to see the bride before you are married. I know this tradition is changing but I was pretty adamant on this tradition.
After five and a half long hours and aching knees along the Great Wall of China, it was time to be like a tourist and take the lazy way down. We rode the gondola and it was great!
As we left Mutianyu, we were swarmed by eager Chinese vendors trying to sell us a t-shirt or trinket for less than a dollar. It was three or four blocks of tourist hell. And this was Mutianyu! I can only imagine what the big touristy Badaling must be like! No wonder they call it the Badaling Blues!
We arrived in the car park at Mutianyu, thrilled to see our driver awaiting our weary feet. We were tired, dirty and hungry yet elated to have walked the Great Wall of China. It was the highlight of the trip and a day that I’ll never forget. For days like these are why I travel. To marvel and be amazed at our big, brilliant world!
Stay tuned…much more China to come, sprinkled in with some other interesting posts about life, culture and giving back! Thanks for reading!
Ok…these may not be the best videos but I thought they were worth sharing with you so you can get a sense of what the unrestored section of the Wall is like at Jiantou.
Here are two relatively short clips I recorded with my iPhone upon taking my first steps along the Great Wall of China at Jiantou. Sorry if they are rather unprofessional or my commentary is a bit silly! I decided to suck in my pride a bit and share the videos as it does give you a great sense of what the Wall is like. So please click on the links below and take a walk along the Wall with me! Enjoy!
(P.S….the first one goes sideways….still trying to figure out this new iPhone!).
Author’s note: This is part two of three posts on my visit to China’s Great Wall. To read my earlier post, click here.
The fog nestled tightly around the mountains above, giving off an eerie, surreal setting for undoubtably China’s most spectacular man-made wonder. I was perplexed and felt rather naive in my earlier belief that the Great Wall of China was built on flat land.
“You mean to tell me that the wall is way up there, built along the ridge of the mountains and lost somewhere in the clouds?” I asked Jackie, craning my neck upwards trying to find the hidden landmark.
Jackie, our 26-year-old Beijing guide (who seemed a little bit lost himself) just shook his head and said “yes” with a sigh. I wasn’t sure whether or not he understood how far and difficult the hike would be. His clothing (i.e. dress slacks, button-down pink shirt, light blue sweater vest and sneakers) seemed to give him away. He was not a hiker. He was not even the least bit athletic. But he was knowledgable and that was the most important thing of all. He knew his stuff like the back of his hand. Facts, figures and historical perspectives were easily given and recited to our thirsty ears.
Aboveis a picture of the second hill we had to cross in order to get to the main mountain leading up to the wall. I tried my best to take a good pictures of the steepness of the trail (it is in brown leading up the center of the “hill”) but I found it impossible to do in a short amount of time. We had a lot of work ahead of us so we had to keep moving! Plus it was so steep that there weren’t many opportunities to safely stop.
We reached the base of the second “hill” and began climbing up. From this point on, it was no longer a hike at all. Instead, it was going straight up using our fingers to grasp large rocks and tree branches to literally pull ourselves up. I could tell my dad was getting a little nervous at this point. Not at all for himself: He had already climbed more mountains than I can remember (and he is 69 years old!). He was worried about me and having to explain to my husband, children and mother how I fell and broke my back trying to climb up to the Great Wall. That wouldn’t do!
I could tell that Jackie was lagging behind yet he was desperately trying to be the good Chinese leader and guide that he aspired. His face was drenched in sweat, his pastel blue sweater vest was placed into his backpack after much convincing and he continually questioned our age. “You’re in your mid-twenties, right” he asked, almost desperately. He seemed completely mystified that my father at his age was having no problem at all climbing up the side of a dirty mountain. Jackie believed most Chinese men at his age would be withering away in bed!
“Ah, you Amercains are strong. So very strong!” he raved, encouragingly and slightly embarrassed by being passed by two people well over his age. “Us Chinese are not strong” he said, convinced in his belief that Chinese people are not athletes.
I found Jackie’s viewpoint and ongoing compliments to be hilarious! Weren’t it the Chinese people who made this very same wall by climbing up these very same steep paths over 2,000 years ago with stones on their back?! Perhaps it was just him who was out of shape!
Jackie in the lead, waiting up above as we pried our hands and fingers into the dirt and grabbed rocks to pull ourselves up the trail.
Looking down at my dad as he climbed up the trail. Now, who told us we were doing “rock” climbing? That definitely wasn’t in Lonely Planet’s description!!!!
Picture above of last hill leading up to the Great Wall.
We finally made it to the top of the second hill, feeling tired and a bit weary. It was extremely steep at the top with sheer cliffs tumbling down below. There was a wee bit of panic and emergency when I realized during our water break that we were surrounded by bees! I am somewhat fearful of bees because I am allergic and of course had no epi-pen with me! I had a brief dancing panic on the top of the mountain and my dad nearly had a heart attack that I would fall. We abruptly climbed down the peak and headed up the third, and last mountain to reach the wall. No wonder there was no one else on the trail! You would have to be crazy!
Here is my dad making it down a very steep part of the “trail”. Are we insane?
By the third hill, we were feeling relieved to be passed the worst, or so we’d hoped. We now had to climb down the valley between the two mountains and it was VERY steep. Even I was a little worried about breaking a leg. I’d broken my foot before it was the pits. (I was in a boot for five months and had a baby and a toddler to care for!).
It was getting close to noon and there was still no sign of the wall. The smog had not lifted as we had hoped. Jackie looked like he was going to pass out during the last thirty minutes of the hike. His face was the color of cotton candy and dripping with sweat while his breathing was like a smokers’. He was also still wearing that darn pink button-down shirt over a t-shirt! Why he didn’t take it off during one of his many breaks, I don’t understand.
Finally, my dad and I had to pass him by. We knew that the hike had taken a lot longer than we’d planned and if we wanted to have any time hiking on the wall itself, that there was no time to stop. Jackie haphazardly gave in to our pleas and followed slowly up behind us. The hike wasn’t really that challenging given other hikes we’d taken (such as our 100-mile hike last year in Nepal). But the conditions were prime for an accident.
We walked on for another ten minutes or so, feeling like we were on a path to nowhere, and then just like a dream, we finally saw it. There, laying precariously atop of the ridge of the mountain, was one of the most spectacular things I’d ever seen: The mighty, impressive Great Wall of China.
The Great Wall of China at Jiankou, one of the relatively unknown sections of the wall that is not frequently visited by tourists, mainly due to its isolated location. The only way to get there is to hike.
At Jiankou, there are three routes up to the wall and we took the longest and hardest route. Yet, once we arrived I realized with joy and elation that the best part of seeing the wall was the journey itself, climbing up just like the Chinese did thousands of years ago.
For as Chairman Mao said: “He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man” (or woman in my case!).
Me, taking the final steps up on the ladder to the wall. What a feeling of accomplishment to be here!
View on top the wall. It was so startling and impressive that I could hardly breathe. I only wished the clouds would have been gone. To see the wall snake around the mountain ridge until the eye can no longer see would have been sensational.
We did it! My dad and I on top the Wall!
Stay tuned…part III of “Fall on the Wall” will be up soon. I will show you favorite pictures from the wall as well as provide some insight into what I learned about its magical creation. Plus you’ll get a sneak preview of what it was like to be a “movie star” surrounded by Chinese paparazzi for my moment of fame and attention as a thirdeyemom blond on top the wall.
He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true man. – Mao Zedong
Photo above of the Great Wall of China at Badaling, the most heavily visited and fully restored part of the wall. Photo credited to Wikipedia Commons (Free images).
As a diehard wanderlust whose main goal in life is to see the greatest and latest of this amazing world, I’d always set my sights on leaving my footprints across the Great Wall of China. Like Machu Picchu, Ancient Rome, the mighty Himalayas and the Great Barrier Reef, the Great Wall of China was something that could not be missed.
Seeing the wall was so important to me and my dad, that it was one of the main reasons why we both wanted to go to China. If there was nothing else we liked or enjoyed during the entire trip, we would be satisfied to have walked along the Great Wall, known as one of China’s greatest engineering triumphs and perhaps one of the most remarkable manmade structures in the world.
Given my unique, thirdeye perspective to traveling, our visit to the Great Wall would be anything but normal. Most tourists choose to sign up with a Chinese tour company, jump on a huge, overcrowded tour bus and take a long, annoying day-trip to the Badaling section of the wall (which is the most-photographed and most-visited “tourist” trap in China). Most tours to Badaling start at the crack of dawn, waking unsuspected tourists out of their warm, cozy beds to lead them on an eight-hour nightmare expedition to the Wall that includes multiple stops. Instead of spending the entire time at the wall, the tour herds the tourists off like a flock of sheep to the famous Ming Tombs (who really wants to see a bunch of boring tombs?) followed by several stops to nearby jade, silk and porcelain stores where everything is way over-priced and the sales people are totally in your face. In my opinion, a visit to Badaling sounded like going to Disneyland! Who wants to ride a bus up to the fully restored wall, walk along this magnificent piece of architecture to be surrounded by loads of tourists and ride a toboggan down? It sounded like a complete joke!
So, instead of doing what most or some would say “normal” tourists would do, I decided singlehandedly to do the complete opposite. I convinced my dad into booking our own tour guide and driver through our hotel, to visit a relatively unknown, unrestored section of the wall, called Jiankou (which of course I found out about through my beloved Lonely Planet guide.
Lonely Planet describes Jiankou as follows:
For stupefying gorgeous hikes along perhaps Beijing’s most incomparable section of wall, head to the rear section of the Jiankou Great Wall. It’s a 40-minute walk uphill from the drop-off at Xizhazi Village….Tantalizsing panoramic views spread out either direction as the brickwork meanders dramatically along a mountain ridge; the settings is truly magnificent.
After reading the inviting description, I was hooked. I just needed to pry my dad a little bit which was fairly easy after a few glasses of wine.
We woke up early Sunday morning, our second day in China, to have a full breakfast and prepare makeshift sandwiches at our hotel. We knew there would be no food options available and we were more than happy to use the hotel’s french baguette and cheese (a rare find in China!) for our meal.
By 8:30 am, we were introduced to “Jackie” (of course his western name), our twenty-six-year-old tour guide who was drastically inappropriately dressed for a hike. While we were wearing hiking shoes, pants and dri-fit shirts, Jackie was dressed in slacks, a pinkish colored button down shirt, a sweater vest and sneakers. He looked like he was off to teach Sunday school, not hike the Great Wall.
We met our driver, who did not speak any english, and climbed into our four-door sedan (with no seat belts) and headed off on our forty-five minute ride to the Jiankou section of the Great Wall. The drive was our first real experience outside of crazy, congested, polluted Beijing and I was pleasantly surprised to find the road conditions to be excellent. We passed through several suburbs, villages and farms, talking the entire way long about China.
I discovered that Jackie was a wealth of information (I took several pages of thorough notes that I will use on my upcoming posts) and highly educated. He is a first generation university graduate and comes from rural China. Both of his parents are farmers and are illiterate. He is one of two children and is hopeful about the future of China. Like most Chinese, Jackie is very proud of the enormous economic changes that China has made in his lifetime. Jackie’s parents grew up wearing only one of three colors: Blue, Black or Gray. And, they ate meat only once a month. Now, many urban Chinese proudly dress like most westerners and eat meat every day. In his eyes, this was a great leap forward. Jackie believed that China was a long way’s off having a democracy. As long as the average Chinese life is impoving, the rest can wait.
We arrived in Xizhazi Village around ten o’clock. There wasn’t much there as it is very small and quite rural however we did manage to find a squat toilet and a small farmer’s market where I found a supply of dried fruits. The most notable thing I saw in the village was this fish farm below as well as the bag of Chicken’s feet (see earlier post on Chinese Street Food):
After a few minutes of asking around, Jackie finally identified the unmarked trail leading up to the Great Wall. This should have been a sign but unfortunately it was ignored.
The trail was nothing special. Just gravel littered with trash (something I still will never understand: why people litter so much on hiking trails!). The day was unfortunately overcast and the mountains were covered in China’s telltale blanket of smog. My earlier elation at being here faded fast once I realized the smog was probably here to stay.
As we hiked up the slowly escalating path, Jackie filled us in on the main details and history behind the Great Wall. The Great Wall is not one continuous wall but a collection of walls that were built and rebuilt starting in the 5th century BC through the 16th century by various dynasties. The “original”, most famous part of the wall was first built between 220-206 BC years ago by the Qin dynasty, yet little of that wall remains. The majority of the existing wall was built during the Ming Dynasty (1368 to 1644) and that is what most tourists see today.
The wall was built to keep the Mongolian and other various nomadic tribes out of the Chinese Empire. As winter set in and food became scarce, the brutal Mongolian warriors headed south in search of food, and in the process terrorized the native Chinese. Thus the wall was built as a defending line from east to west to keep these northern invadors out. Unfortunately it didn’t always work.
The statistics behind the wall are mind-boggling yet inconclusive as nobody truly knows the exact length of the wall and most figures vary. Per Wikipedia, the wall itself is measured at 6,259.6 km (3,889.5 miles) and includes 359.7 km (223.5 miles) of trenches and 2,232.5 km (1,387.2 miles) of natural barriers.
Map of the Great Wall of China (Wikipedia Commons).
As we hiked, I became infatuated with the history of the wall and what it took to build it. Slaves, indentured servants and other poor souls from the lower peasant class were forced into constructing one of the largest, most impressive engineering projects in the world. Thousands of people died and it is said that their remains were mixed in and used as building materials in the construction of the wall. Each stone of the wall was carried by hand or on the backs of the workers over 2,000 years ago! It was hard to grasp.
Fall is the perfect time to visit China’s Great Wall. The crowds are less, the temperature is good and you have a 50% chance of a relatively clear day (unfortunately we were the other 50%). The fall foliage is also quite stunning. We were at the tail end of the colors yet it was still quite beautiful.
I became so enamoured in the historical significance of the wall, that I didn’t notice the lack of fellow hikers on the trail or the thick beads of sweat dripping down Jackie’s young face. I was still severely jet-lagged and had “Sichuan” pork stomach after the questionable hot ‘n spicy meal the night before. Perhaps that was why I was lagging behind? I was tired.
As we hiked away from the village we saw a few birds and could hear the echo of dogs barking from down below. We had hoped the smog would lift but unfortunately it was there to stay. What a pity!
As the time passed, and the forty minutes guaranteed that it would take to reach the wall per Lonely Planet, I begin to wonder where in the heck we were going. The mountains were still covered in smog and the wall was no where in sight. The trail kept heading up up up and into the mist. I was starting to sweat myself so I stripped down to a t-shirt and wished I had worn shorts. The exertion of the hike was getting to me as I realized that the lackadaisical trail was becoming more steep and more unkept.
After an hour of wondering where in the hell we were, we finally passed another small group of Chinese. The sun desperately tried to peek out of the clouds and then I saw it. The first of three large “hills”.
Where is the wall? I asked Jackie. “Up there?” I said and pointed at the first large, steep hill. “No” Jackie replied, short of breath. “It is there” he declared, pointing up behind the first hill. That was my first realization that we were in for a ride. This was no forty minute walk in the park. It was a hike from hell. A real live adventure. Was I ready for it? You bet!
Stay tuned….next post will be about our “climb” up to the Great Wall. Yes, we were actually using our hands to grasp rocks and tree limbs. If my mother would have known, she would have freaked. Would we make it to the top? You’ll have to wait and see!
Author’s note: I decided to break this post down into parts due to my high level of photos and commentary. I thought it would be easier and better to read. Stay posted.
For those of you who can’t make it any time soon to China and want to get a close up view of the Chinese Street Food in action, get your chopsticks ready and dig in!
“If you reject the food, ignore the customs, fear the religion, and avoid the people, you might better stay home.” – James Michener
A sign posted on the outside window of a Chinese restaurant near our hotel in Beijing.
One of the best things about traveling the world is experiencing the world through your stomach. Taste, of course, is one of the five senses and you cannot possibly leave home without it.
Food is an integral part of every country and culture around the world whether it be for mere subsistence, pleasure or some of both. It is often said that one of the best things about traveling can be trying and eating all the different kinds of cuisine a new place has to offer. However, that said, one of the worst things about traveling can also be the food. It is all a matter of how you interpret things and of course how adventurous or non-adventurous you are.
Let’s take me as an example. I am a relatively adventurous eater who loves to eat ethnic food. My favorite cuisines are Indian, Thai, Middle Eastern and recently Ethiopian. However, I do not eat red meat (sorry folks, I had to drawn the line twenty years ago when my grandfather fed me a hamburger that was stone cold frozen down the middle! I haven’t had the desire to eat red meat since then). I also am weary of any other types of odd meats (donkey, venison, dog to name a few) and “meat parts” such as organs (eye balls, hearts, livers, etc).
I can’t stomach strange kinds of uncooked fish such as fish eggs or scary looking raw creatures (I lost 10 pounds when I traveled to Japan as a teenager). Yet, When in Rome I try my best to try the local cuisine, especially if it is vegetarian, cooked fish or poultry. Therefore, I’m not a meat an’ potatoes kind of gal but I do steer clear of McDonald’s and opt for Pad Thai.
Before my big trip to China, I was extremely anxious about the food. I had tried the Americanized version of Chinese in the States (and even went to have Dim Sum in Chinatown) but I’ve always left the restaurant feeling sick. It was too greasy, too fried, too MSG’ed and too much. I had high hopes that perhaps I’d enjoy the food in China much more than the terrible Chinese American food I’ve tried here. Unfortunately, I proved my fears correct: I hated the food. (Note: I am certain there is some Chinese food that I would have enjoyed if I had more time in China. Each province has their own unique kind of cuisine. As a tourist who couldn’t read any Chinese, I was at a severe disadvantage thus I am perhaps being a little unfair in my judgments).
My first lunch in China proved to be edible. I had cashew chicken with no rice (never figured out where the rice was!). It was gooey, relatively bland and so-so. It left me feeling incomplete and unsatisfied but at least I kept it down. That evening, I tried Sichuan pork at another Chinese restaurant and my mouth was on fire. The fire raged all throughout my sleepless, first jet-lagged night and I woke up at 4 am with a burning stomach-ache. From that point on, I simply threw in the towel and gave up. I know, lame lame lame! But given my past history with parasites and other unmentionable stomach ailments, I didn’t want to risk it for bad food. So for the rest of the trip, instead of eating Chinese food I found myself taking picture after picture of the various types of Chinese cuisine I saw along the street.
Never before had I ever seen such a wide variety of street food in my life! You could find anything you wanted, any time of day and the price was right. It was beyond cheap. So cheap that most Chinese prefer to eat both breakfast and lunch out everyday on the street!
So, without further delay here is thirdeyemom’s Chinese Street Food 101: How to eat like a Chinese and not get grossed out. Time to get out your chopsticks and dig in! Hope you’re hungry!
Scenes from the street: Every evening this enormous line of street food vendors would set up shop on Donghuamen Daije (a busy thoroughfare in the heart of Beijing) and sell plates and sticks of food to hungry passerby.
Raw meat was selected and cooked up on the spot.
As well as other types of raw foods (fish, pig’s feet, beef).
Candied calabash and other delights were for sale on a stick for a quick and easy dessert. These were extremely popular and I frequently saw locals slurping them down.
Stir fry and noodles were made to order (obviously this Chinese vendor thought I was interested!). All the ingredients are fresh yet the pots, pans and plates are not very clean or hygienic.
You could also find fish fry around town. You would simply pick your fish, then they would kill it for you and cook it right before your eyes all in a matter of minutes.
Smelly green sea cucumbers are also cut up fresh and served in a plastic container to go. Mmmmmm.
And one last time (I promise, I just can’t get enough of this picture) you can buy live scorpions, beetles and seahorses (supposedly have a medicinal quality per a fellow reader of my blog) to be cooked up live on the spot and eaten. I did not see any tourists eating this stuff as it was strictly in a Chinese side street. Thus I cannot confirm who does eat the live scorpions on a stick and why!
Outside of town, you could find peasants selling their excess produce. I still have yet to determine what these are (a fruit? a vegetable?) but I saw them growing in the trees en route to the Great Wall (thus they must be a fruit!).
Fresh nuts, figs, dates and other dried fruits were for sale as a tasty snack which even picky me enjoyed (they made a great treat for our 2.5 hour hike up to the Great Wall!).
Being measured are the mixed goodies I purchased. They were delightful!
I had been warned not to be alarmed if I ordered Chicken Soup in China. Apparently the Chicken’s foot is often sticking out of the soup! Needless to say, I did not order Chicken Soup.
Shanghai eats: Shanghai had much better food in my opinion which was a thankful relief. It is an extremely cosmopolitan, modern city and is the complete opposite from traditional, historic Beijing. Yet I did still find plenty of interesting street food!
Here are some of my favorites:
Dried fish parts, raw fish pieces and other yummy, smelly things.
Up close and personal.
Ahh….I found my Moroccan dried fruit cart, in the midst of central Shanghai!
Ok….these steamed buns MUST be good because every time we walked by, the line was a mile long.
Freshly grilled Peking duck, head included.
A local specialty from Shanghai’s water village community, Zho Zang: Bean sauce pork.
Toes and feet included! (Had to take it sideways to get up close and personal).
There are rows and rows of this bean-based pork delight. Seems like it would be a messy kind of food to eat while walking but many do.
Zho Zang is also known for its seafood, notably fresh crayfish as seen above.
Here are fresh oysters which are caught in one of the many fresh water lakes outside the water village.
Here is the traditional, local Hairy Crab, fished right outside of the water village. The crabs are still chirping as you pass by.
The dumpling queue….must be good!
Street food and eating in action.
Cookin’ it up.
All this talk about food is making me hungry! But I’m glad I’m back and eating what I’m used to. It is all a matter of our tastes and what we are accustomed to. There is no right or wrong with cuisine. I just wish I could have liked the Chinese food better! Thank god for western hotel food! (I am so embarrassed to admit!).
BEAUTY IS IN THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER, AS IS FOOD!!!!!
Stay tuned….next post details my exciting “climb” up and hike on the Great Wall of China. Needless to say, it was a great adventure!
We walked the entire day and night, absorbing everything we could of this brilliant, unique city and I captured all my thoughts of my first day in China on film.
So without further ado, here they are, a hodge-podge of pictures taken throughout our first chaotic, marathon day in China.
First thing after breakfast, we walked the short distance to Beijing’s premier walking street, Wangfujing. It wasn’t too crowded….yet. But there was plenty of eye candy!
The sun was desperately trying to come out. Yet the thick blanket of smog made it difficult. This was the sunniest day we had in Beijing. Note: China is noted for having several of the most polluted cities in the world. I’m not sure where Beijing fares on the list, yet I wouldn’t want to see the cities that are worse off. Obviously their incredible rise and development as one of the world’s economic powerhouses has come with a price. A big one.
Plenty of nick knacks to buy….all of course “Made in China”.
If you are hungry, there is also stall after stall of street food available. These things below are extremely popular. Kind of like a Chinese lollipop. I tried to find out exactly what the red glossy ones are. I heard they are candied calabash on a stick. I decided to pass.
Freshly cut sea cucumbers are also quite popular.
Little Chinese fast-food joints with happy hour beer to flush it down.
We entered our first touristy shop which was loaded with Chinese gifts. Bin after bin of cheap, Chinese trinkets await the weary tourist. Sales ladies also eagerly await their prey, ready to pounce on the next unsuspecting tourist and offer you a deal.
We meandered around the shop marveling at all the strange things for sale. Being easy prey, we wondered over to the Chinese stamps to take a look.
Here we met “Daniel” (the Chinese all pick a Western name) who was the store’s one and only Grand Master Seal Carver. Before we knew it, we were convinced into buying a stamp for my son Max.
Max was born in 2004, the year of the Monkey. Apparently this means he is clever, witty, happy and smart. Hmmm…this guy seems to be on to something. Daniel looks up Max’s name and translates it into Chinese characters which is carved gently on the bottom of the stamp. According to Daniel, carving your name in Chinese is good luck.
All in all, we were out fifty bucks. Yep, we were had but oh well. The memories!
Next it was time for some comparison shopping. Here is a picture of my dad walking out of a leather store. I tried to capture the thirty sales associates, all dressed in matching pink outfits, yet it was impossible. I was in too much of a hurry to get out of there! Talk about capitalism in the making.
At the end of the shopping street, tucked away behind a corner we found the real treat….our first introduction to Chinese street food. Here a lion statue flanks the entrance to the market. Lions are everywhere in China as they are symbols of power and protection. There is always a male lion on the east and a female on the west side (given the east side of a building is the most important. It is the direction of the rising sun).
This is the section of town where I first encountered the live scorpions on a stick.
Lunch time…scorpions, sea horses, beatles and bugs plus any fresh, raw meat grilled to perfection.
For dessert, you can try these sugary treats…
After the walking street, I had a case of “Peking knees” and decided to take a short break…
Lunch was at no other than the “Red Lantern” which was across the street from our hotel and known for its Peking Duck.
Thankfully the menu was translated into English and included pictures (a big thank you for me! It talked me out of ordering several things!
After lunch, it was time for more walking. We headed the short couple of blocks past our hotel to the center of Beijing: Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. The Forbidden City is surrounded by a huge moat that in my opinion was not that clean. But it didn’t stop the fisherman from trying to catch their lunch.
I loved this view of the backs of the old Beijing homes reflecting on the murky water.
Again, I was distressed that it was so smoggy as it was annoying on my lungs and also for my camera. It was hard to capture the true beauty of the massive complex of ancient buildings which make up the Forbidden City.
Yet another lion, the symbol of ancient dynastic China.
I could not stop marveling and snapping pictures of the exquisite Chinese architecture. It was so intricately detailed and beautiful.
I was mesmerized by the glory of the Forbidden City and could hardly wait until we had time to check it out in full.That would be saved for another day.
We got lost many times throughout the day. Beijing is not that hard of a city to navigate yet we were tired and in a new, foreign land with oddly named streets and monuments to our western eyes.
We continued wandering until we unexpectedly came upon the entrance of Jingshan park, one of the premier parks in Beijing that offers a panoramic view of the Forbidden City from above.
We followed the hordes of people up the steep steps and arrived on top of the hill to be stunned to see the entire 800+ buildings of the Forbidden City laying before us. Unfortunately as we climbed up, the thick layer of smog intensified giving the Forbidden City a forbidden, ghostly and surreal look. I can only imagine what it would have looked like on a clear day (is that possible?).
Oh…the pollution (which the Chinese liked to call fog). What a pity!I was so sad that none of my pictures turned out. Yet this is the reality.
For ten bucks, you could dress up as a Chinese empress or emperor…yet it felt a little too cheesy for me.
The Buddhist temple on top was a delight to my weary eyes.
The happy Buddha…
By five o’clock, we were back at the hotel for a quick happy hour and then off for our next adventure: Dinner.
We grabbed a cab and ended up on a wild goose chase all throughout the lights of Beijing.
We finally reached our destination, Ghost Street, an hour later. The brightly lit red lanterns were everywhere, just as the guide book had promised. Yet the throng of people and endless amount of Chinese restaurants seemed to overwhelm us and make me want to hide.
Finally, we found a restaurant to rest our tired feet and were treated to live Chinese music. What a way to ring in our first day in China!
Stay tuned….next post will be about my favorite subject: Food!
a sense of confusion, discomfort, disorientation, and uncertainty felt by those exposed to a different cultural environment.
Even the statues have a third-eye….yet where was mine?
I woke up Saturday morning feeling foggy and confused.Where am I again? I wondered half-awake. Somehow or another, I managed to get four and half hours of alcohol-induced sleep yet my body was still terribly confused. For it was 8 pm Friday night back home in Minneapolis and 8 am in Beijing. I told myself that I just had to get through the first day as it is always the hardest. Jet lag sucks.
I took a shower, and peered out the window of our hotel room. Life outside was full of activity and noise. Yet the sky looked like dirty water after washing the floor. It was flat, gray, thick and dark. Hmmm….was that what everyone said about Chinese pollution? My mind returned back to last year’s trip to India and I realized without a doubt, yep here we go again. Prepare myself to not see the real color of the sky or sun for the next ten days unless there is a magical lifting of the thick blanket of smog. That was my first experience with culture shock number 1. Pollution.
The pesky, loud birds being sold directly across the street outside my hotel.
I headed downstairs for breakfast. Our hotel offered a splendid buffet included in the cost of our room. I was actually hungry as it was dinner time for me. I waltzed into the dining area, made myself my own personal espresso and then took a look around to investigate the offerings. That was culture shock number 2 (it wasn’t even 9 o’clock yet!). The food.
Don’t worry…this wasn’t our hotel buffet. It was some of the street food sold directly outside our hotel every night. Here are legs and sometimes foots of pig.
Ok, I understood that I was in China and was prepared with the unfortunate knowledge that Chinese food is the one and only kind of food I cannot stand. Yet I was hoping that perhaps Chinese food would be different in China, maybe even better. Not the American over-greasy, over-fried and over-MSGed grub. Well, it was different that is for sure. But in my American eyes, it was shockingly different. There were fish with heads on, friend rice for breakfast, and God knows what in the silver heated buffet trays. I took in a whiff and suddenly felt sick. How in the heck am I going to manage here? Yet thank goodness I found the Western breakfast nearby. You could get a prepared omelette or eggs by the egg chef or as much bread, jam and cheese as your heart desired. They even had corn flakes! So instead of diving into the fried rice or raw fish for breakfast, I went for what my body knows. My third-eye was suddenly disappearing.
View of our soviet-exterior styled hotel (which was actually a highly rated and fabulous hotel) from across the street. Look at the pollution in the air.
We left the hotel by 10 am to start our day exploring Beijing. We didn’t really have a game plan for the first day since we knew we would be so tired. Our only plan was to walk until we drop. As we opened the door and headed out into the bustling streets of Beijing, I was hit with culture shock number 3. The people. We were instantly surrounded by black-haired Chinese people everywhere we turned. As an American, I am so used to the diversity of people even in Minnesota that I found the sea of black-headed people all dressed in black, gray and blue to be a big shock. Where were the Somalis, the Mexicans, the blonds, the red-heads, the African-Americans? No where in sight. It felt incredibly awkward to be two relatively tall Scandinavian looking Minnesotans in the heart of Beijing, a city of over 20 million people with one of the highest population densities of people per square foot in the world.
As we walked down Donghuamen Street, the main thoroughfare leading directly to Tian’anmen Square and the Forbidden City, I was suddenly struck with severe culture shock. My mind started racing with doubts about coming here and I had to stop myself for a moment and remember the golden rule about culture shock.
That it happens. It is nature. You need to face it, deal with it, accept it, and then move on. Culture shock is actually a process and depending on how different the host culture is compared with your culture, it is going to depend on how well and how fast you adapt. For example, there is less culture shock traveling to a western country than an eastern one.
I knew I was extremely tired, jet-lagged and overwhelmed with my new environment. I just had to remember to use that third-eye of mine and then everything would be fine. The first day is always the hardest.
We had lunch at a recommended restaurant nearby our hotel. We were the only Westerners inside but thankfully we didn’t get too many looks and felt perfectly comfortable. I ordered cashew chicken and my dad decoded on some kind of spicy beef thing. Beijing (also known as Peking) is famous for their Peking duck. It is a specialty that we were told is a “must have” when you visit Beijing. I enjoy duck so I thought I’d maybe give it a try.
I then instantly changed my mind once I saw it. There it was, head and all, browned to a crisp and dripping with juices. The sight of a dead, baked, not headless duck made my stomach churn. The chef pushed the dead-baked-duck over to the next table, where he carved it tableside for the ravenous guests and then I watched how Peking duck is eaten. Basically you take a slab of crispy fatty skin and use it as a tortilla adding vegetables and other delights inside, roll it up and enjoy. I decided to change my mind about trying Peking duck.
My relatively tame lunch….yet where was the rice?
The now headless Peking duck….
Our lunch was good yet my body was not ready to handle such different foods. As a preventative, I popped two pink Pepto tablets to line my stomach and keep in from harm. Unfortunately I’ve gotten sick way too many times on past travels so I decided to be extra careful on this trip. No lettuce, no raw veggies, no tap water and definitely no street food.
After lunch we walked over the Beijing’s premier walking street, Wangfujing, to check things out. Once again, I was instantly inundated with culture shock. The street food was repulsive (third-eye, where art thou?), the bright neon flashing lights too obnoxious and the floods of people everywhere, too overbearing. We didn’t last long yet I managed to snap a ton of photos. I couldn’t find a better way than pictures to express my serious dilemma with culture shock.
Wangfujing Walking and Shopping Street during the day.
Live Scorpions on a stick, anyone? They are fried and eaten for special luck.
By four o’clock, we were completely wiped out. Our feet throbbed, our brains ached and we felt a little disoriented. It was time to have happy hour and take a few moments to decompress before heading out on our next adventure, dinner.
For such a big city, we hadn’t managed to scope out a dining choice for the night during our marathon, sightseeing walk. Thus we had to go to Plan B: Refer to my invaluable Lonely Planet guidebook. Page 80 of Lonely Planet China highlighted a section of town called “Ghost Street”, a “don’t miss!” place. The description is:
“Hopping at weekends and one of Beijing’s busiest and most colourful restaurant strips at virtually any hour. Ghost Street is the nickname for this spirited section of Dongzhimennei Dajie, where scores of restaurants converge to feed legions of locals and out-of-towners. Splendidly lit with red lanterns from dusk til dawn…”
After hearing the words “scores of restaurants” and “splendidly lit with red lanterns” I was in. Yet little did I know this misadventure would only lead to furthering culture shock.
First of all, getting the correct translation of the words “Ghost Street” into Chinese took much time and many differing opinions. The Chinese language is a complex creature and trying to convey the “correct” meaning is tricky. Needless to say, we got it figured out after fifteen minutes and multiple disagreements among hotel staff.
Second of all, getting a cab in Beijing is no easy feat. After many attempts to score a cab that would actually take us there, we finally just opened the door, jumped in, closed the door and then handed the cab driver the instructions “Take me to…” in Chinese. This way there was no denying us.
Third of all, we got there an hour later thank planned, not the promised ten minute drive. The cab driver decided to take us on a little tour of Beijing so he could add on to the time. Of course we couldn’t communicate with him and had to just sit and wait. The fare ended up only being a few dollars so no real harm down. But still!.
Ghost street at night.
Finally, once we arrived it was a complete red lantern, Chinese restaurant galore filled with mobs of people. Talk about cultural overload! Finally after walking block after block loaded with Chinese restaurants, defeated we opted on the only presentable choice: Some kind of fancier-looking venue that had an over-the-top Charlie Trotter meets Jackie Chan menu. It was gourmet Chinese to the extreme and there was hardly anything on the menu that I could possibly stomach to eat. Thankfully almost everything in China is relatively cheap and after an incredibly spicy Sichuan pork dinner with chilis to kill, we were only out about $50.
My spicy, hot dinner again where was the rice? I could have used some to cool things down.
Ahhh….my mouth is on fire but I’m still smiling!
Exhausted, we literally jumped in a cab using the close-the-door approach, and headed back wearily to our hotel. What a day of extremes! My only hope was that my increasingly important third-eye would decide to show up soon and rescue me from the extreme, intense culture shock I was experiencing.
Stay tuned…next post will be a day of photographs: First day in Beijing. I took too many pictures to put in this post and too many great ones that must be shared!
“But I got a great deal else from the experience. I learned to pitch a tent and sleep beneath the stars. For a brief, proud period I was slender and fit. I gained a profound respect for the wilderness and nature and the benign dark power of woods. I understand now, in a way I never did before, the colossal scale of the world. I found patience and fortitude that I didn’t know I had. I discovered an America that millions of people scarcely know exists. I made a friend. I came home.”
― Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail
I can’t think of a better way to spend a beautiful fall day than to be outside enjoying the splendid fall colors.Fall is my uttermost favorite time of year. I love the incredible tapestry of colors that brighten even the dullest, cloudiest of days. The scarlet reds to the pumpkins oranges and the brilliant yellows are nature’s biggest delight. The air is invigorating and fresh and I feel incredibly alive doing what I love best: Being outside and taking it all in.
My husband’s family lives in the town of Warrenton which is located about 45 miles southwest Of Washington DC. We have been visiting Warrenton for years now yet have never made it to the Shenandoah National Park. With fall in full swing and the colors almost at their prime, today was the day for our autumn drive through stunning Shenandoah National Park.
We headed west on 211 for a lovely half an hour drive through the lush, verdant countryside. We drove through rolling hills, passing by farms, vineyards and orchards with the distant shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains and the spectacular Shenandoah Valley in the background. The colors did not disappoint nor did the low level of traffic. It was a weekday thankfully thus we were able to drive at a leisurely pace and avoid the bumper to bumper traffic that rolls through the scenic drive throughout the weekend.
We reached Sperryville, a small town on the outskirts of the Thornton Gap entrance to the park, where we saw stand after stand selling local products. The stalls were lined with buckets of red, yellow and green apples as well as round, plump orange pumpkins in any size or shape your heart desired.
As we approached the park, the foliage became thicker and the golden yellows and oranges of the trees were peaceful and serene. I longed to get out of the car and go for a hike, my most favorite pastime in the mountains. But of course that was an unrealistic dream as we were with our two young kids who would never had made it past an hour.
We reached the entrance to Shenandoah National Park and headed right in to our first of many stops at one of the 75 overlooks along the 105 mile stretch of the scenic Skyline Drive which curves around the entire length of the Shenandoah National Park.
The overlook was stunning even with the not so perfect cloudy day. I closed my eyes, breathed in a huge breath of fresh, clean air and relaxed. It was beautiful. I can only imagine how brilliant it would be on a bright sunny days. I’m certain that the leaves would shine like gold.
We continued on our drive for another half hour stopping along the way to take photos. There are over 500 different hiking trails throughout the park which connects to the grand-daddy of all American hikes, the mighty Appalachian Trail (which passes through 14 states!). Our journey through the park reminded me of Bill Byrson’s famous book “A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail” (if you haven’t read it, it is a great read).
Photo of my husband Paul and I at one of the many outlooks in lovely Shenandoah National Park. It is getting colder now, as the temperature dropped from 60 to 42 degrees F here. We are at about 3,100 feet.
I love to take pictures of trees. For some reason, they truly appeal to me whether it be a blooming, flowering tree in the height of Spring, a tall Douglas Fir reaching to the sky or this plain old skeleton of a dead tree left over from years and years of life.
I also like this picture of the small rural farms, orchards and vineyards dotting the landscape below.
We arrived at our destination, the Skyland Pass just in the nick of time for lunch. There is a beautiful, historical lodge located there that has a nice restaurant inside serving hot meals and offering its guests a sweeping view of the fall foliage over the Shenandoah Valley.
The restaurant opened for lunch at noon and we had a short wait for a table. Had we arrived any later, we would have had at least a thirty minute wait which would not have been well received by our hungry children. Carloads and busloads of people were arriving as we paid our bill and headed back to town. I can only imagine what it is like during the weekend when all the people from DC head out to see the colors! I’m sure it would be a crowded, annoying experience! Nothing like the relaxing scenic ride we experienced today.
Although Skyline Drive continues and meanders on throughout the breathtakingly beautiful Shenandoah Valley for another sixty-five miles, at 35 mph it would have taken us hours and our kids, who were behaving nicely in the back of the car, would have gotten really restless. (I must admit that they were watching “Rio” on the DVD player! I know bad mom, but sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do!).
Finally, we were home, me feeling a bit carsick, yet happy with our visit. It certainly was worth the drive! Not only did we find some beauty and solitude to fill us up with joy, we also just so happened to get our holiday card picture!
I hope to go again when the kids get older and actually do some hiking. There are plenty of places to stay in rustic cabins or either by tent. The only thing with camping is that you’d better watch out for the bears! I’ll never forget reading this quote in Bill Bryson’s book:
“Black bears rarely attack. But here’s the thing. Sometimes they do. All bears are agile, cunning and immensely strong, and they are always hungry. If they want to kill you and eat you, they can, and pretty much whenever they want. That doesn’t happen often, but – and here is the absolutely salient point – once would be enough.”
― Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail
My family and I in the ’70s at Lake Superior during our annual fall trip to Lutsen, Minnesota to see the splendid fall colors.
I’ve always been a traveler, all my life, starting during the impressionable years of young childhood and blossoming over time into a full fledge passion and even obsession to see the world. Simply put, I cannot sit still. Not only am I rather type A (I rarely if ever watch TV…too boring, instead I prefer to read a book and let my mind do the thinking, and I cannot be inside the house for an entire day without getting stir crazy), I seem to have a problem with my insatiable quest and desire to travel. I am a wanderlust and will always be.
I remember in my early twenties, after spending two stints living, studying, working and traveling abroad, that friends and family told me with knowing certainty that it was good to “get it (traveling) out of my system” and then I’d be cured. I’d be able to enter the real world of work, marriage, family and the one or two annual trips to Disney or Florida. Yeah, right, I thought to myself. I knew even then that I am a diehard wanderlust whose passion for travel and seeing the world will never end. My appetite for travel will never be fulfilled as long as I’m able to travel, both physically and financially.
Even before I get home from a big trip, I’m already thinking about and planning the next. If I’m home for more than three months straight without leaving the state of Minnesota, I start to get antsy and sometimes the shakes. I know in my heart and soul that I’ve got to move (I know Dad, I’m a lot like you!). I’ve got to get out of here (as much as I love Minnesota I still start to feel claustrophobic when I’m stuck here too long. I feel this isolated sense of being trapped and this burning desire to escape and see something else whether it be nearby Wisconsin or far away in Kathmandu.
No matter what anyone says, once a traveler, always a traveler. I’ll never be able to cure my wanderlust and you know what, that is more than fine with me. Traveling make me who I am. I love to learn and to explore. What better way to keep on learning than to use the world as your classroom? I can’t think of any other way.
Here is my wish list of places I want to see next and why:
1. Bhutan: An isolated, royal Himalayan kingdom tucked away near Nepal is supposedly a true gem. With very few travelers and a big cost to get inside (I believe the government charges tourists over $250 a day to visit), this undiscovered place is mysterious and is just waiting to be discovered. I dream of doing a trek there someday with my dad.
2. Kenya and Tanzania: I have wanted to climb Mount Kilimanjaro for over ten years now, ever since my father did it the fall before my wedding in 2000. I’ve read about it, watches documentaries. and have endlessly dreamed of completely the climb before the snow melts. With global warming, it is only a matter of time before the lovely snows melt off the top of Kilimanjaro taking away a vital water supply for the whole region and the mountains incredible beauty. I would love to combine the climb with a volunteer stint at a nearby village. This is on my “almost turning 40 list“. We’ll see when I can get it done.
3. Cambodia, Vietnam and Thailand: I lumped all these countries together because there is no way I could decide which one I’d most want to do first and I know that it would take months to see them all. I’ve been to Japan but never to Southeast Asia. I would love to go check it out someday!
4. Guatemala: I recently did a volunteer trip in Costa Rica and feel in love with its culture and beauty. Pura Vida fit my life perfectly. I am extremely interested in checking out nearby Guatemala, especially the indigenous communities and perhaps doing a volunteer trip there this spring.
5. Antarctica: I’ve been all the way to the southern tip of Patagonia on the Chilean and Argentine side and longingly wished I could hop a quick flight or boat over the last continent I have yet to visit. I’ve always dreamed of seeing all 7 continents and I think the beauty and isolation of Antarctica (plus the penguins) would be sensational.
I have high hopes for continuing my quest to be a wanderlust and hopefully instilling this passion soon on my two young children. I can’t wait to show them the world!
Are you a wanderlust too? If so, where is your dream destination(s)? Comments welcome! thirdeyemom
Note: This post first appeared in the Elephant Journal. It is a cummulation of my story of how I became the thirdeyemom, why I started this blog, what inspired me to make a difference in my life and others and why I began fundraising for Nepal. The link to the original post is here: Nepal was utterly amazing. How it changed me forever.
I am also going to include a copy of the post here. My trip to Nepal and my recent efforts at fundraising have made a huge impact on my life. It is a way to change the dynamic of being a simple traveler to being a compassionate human being who gives back to the community visited. I strongly believe that travel is a gift. It is important to give in return. Without further delay, here is my story.
How Nepal Changed Me
By thirdeyemom
Nepal was utterly amazing. The trek was arduous, humbling and long. We hiked over 100 miles doing on average 4-8 hours of strenuous hiking a day at altitudes up to almost 18,000 feet. But what amazed me most was the magical culture and people that I found in Nepal.
Photo of my dad and me at 6:30 am summit of the highest point of our Annapurna trek, Thorong-La Pass at 17,769 feet.
“Coffee. Tea” the flight attendant asked wearily. “I’ll take a coffee with sugar, please” I responded half-awake yet with a smile. We were two hours short of our 15-hour non-stop flight from Chicago to Delhi and I could hardly believe we were almost there. I had seen the sun set and rise and set again all within that time and needless to say, my body was confused. I had no idea how I’d manage to go to bed that night. It was 8 PM in India but my body was still on Minneapolis time, a bright and early 8 AM. It was going to be interesting.
As we made our final descent through the thick, dark blanket of pollution that covered Delhi I couldn’t help but think about why I was here and where I was headed: To Nepal to hike the mighty Himalayas with my beloved dad. How on earth did I come so far with such a grandiose plan for a vacation? Even I, a stay-at-home mom of two young children, couldn’t believe it was real.
My father and I have been traveling partners all my life. What started out as numerous family vacations throughout my childhood lead to annual vacations with just my dad to destinations around the world. Over the past ten years, we hiked Machu Picchu in Peru, dived in Australia’s Great Barrier Reef, hiked in Patagonia twice, played golf in Ireland, went skiing in Italy and France, and went on a safari in South Africa. My friends thought I was crazy. But I felt invigorated and alive.
Nepal was one of those elusive, mystical places in the back of our minds that we had dreamed of visiting one day. It had everything we wanted in a travel destination: Majestic scenery, world-class hiking, unbelievable mountains, and a diverse and fascinating culture. Yet it was impossibly far away and would require a fair amount of time to see. We also had no idea how safe or doable it was to hike. When thinking about Nepal, my mind easily crept to those crazy, over the top athletes who climb Mount Everest. I thought there was probably more tame hiking adventures but didn’t truly know. Thus as an actual travel destination, Nepal remained a very distant possibility. Perhaps someday we would go there.
Little did I know it would be sooner than I ever imagined. My dad and I had just returned from a spectacular hiking trip in Patagonia, Argentina where we had first caught wind of the real possibility of trekking the Himalayas in Nepal. During our trip to Patagonia, we had met an exciting couple from England who were in their sixties and had just completed the world-famous Annapurna trek the year before. My father and I listened in awe and fascination as they explained their trip and we were instantly hooked. It sounded like the trip of a lifetime that we could easily accomplish physically. Yet we just had to figure out how we could manage such a long trip. My children were only three and five years old and we would need at least two to three weeks. I wasn’t sure my mother or husband would be willing to babysit the children for that long. Thus once again, the thought of going to Nepal was placed on the back burner.
Almost like a sign of fate, my dad happened to see an article in the New York Timeson March 10, 2010 called “Hiking the Annapurna Trek Before the Road Takes Over”. Basically what the article said was that this world-renowned hike was going to be ruined within a matter of years by the building of a dirty, dusty road that would tear through idyllic villages and pristine nature and open this once hidden, mystical land to jeep, car, and bus traffic. That was all we needed to hear and it was soon decided that the time to go was now. We gingerly presented our idea to both my husband and mom who surprisingly were in full support of our plan and gave us the green light to start planning. We were thrilled.
Me and my dad at the start of the trail.
The start of the Annapurna trail is gravel now. Yet not for much longer as a road is in the process of being built from the start of the trail all the way to Manang which currently takes eight days to reach by foot.
The New York Times article recommended two trekking companies. We sent query letters and received a reply almost immediately from Earthbound Expeditions, a locally owned and run outfitter in Nepal. We received a custom itinerary that perfectly met our needs and time constraints, and had amazingly prompt replies to all my crazy questions such as the safety records of internal flights in the mountains to the availability of calling home while on the trail. I was amazed and impressed by the high level of personal attention and service given by Earthbound’s owner, Rajan. This kind of service has long disappeared from most American travel companies. We booked the trip for the end of October 2010 for a 17-day journey that inspired and excited me beyond my expectations.
The desire to give something back
Before leaving for Nepal, I made a decision that I no longer wanted to be simply a tourist that visited a country, enriched myself in all its culture and beauty, and left nothing in return, no gift behind. My new way of thinking all began on a recent trip I made which was different from anything else I’d ever done: A volunteer trip to work in Costa Rica. Although I was only there for one week, the impact volunteering made on my life and the people I helped during that short time led me to believe strongly that we must give back. Travel is a gift and it is important to give in return.
I wracked my brain for different ways I could raise money. I knew that I wanted to donate money to a non-profit organization that focuses on education in Nepal. After reading several inspirational books on education in poverty-stricken lands, I knew that this was the area to attack. I searched Lonely Planet who has an excellent listing of non-profit organizations as well as volunteer opportunities, and found just the organization I was looking for: READ Nepal.
“READ Global pioneered the concept of sustainability as an international development organization dedicated to combining education and private enterprise to make rural communities viable places to learn, build, and prosper. READ partners with rural communities to create, sustain and grow projects in a manner that is politically and culturally appropriate. READ has helped establish forty nine Community Library and Resource Centers paired with for-profit enterprises throughout Nepal and India that serve over a half million people annually and has also recently opened up a center in Bhutan”.
Nepalese children dressed proudly in their school uniforms waved as we passed them by.
Finding the right organization was the easy part. The hard part was figuring out how a stay-at-home mom could raise the money. I didn’t want to ask for donations from friends and families. Instead, I wanted to earn the money and somehow involve my children in the process so they could learn the importance of giving back.
That was where creative thinking came into play. It was summer in Minnesota, a time to be outdoors, out of our long winter’s hibernation, and back into the world again enjoying our 10,000+ lakes, beautiful parks and nature. Initially, I set a small goal of raising a couple hundred dollars for my cause. But as time went by, I realized it was possible to do more. I just had to be creative! I set my first goal at $500 and used traditional American-style activities to raise the money. In June, I ran a co-op “babysitting fundraiser” at my house on Friday mornings. Each Friday I babysat up to ten kids in exchange for a small donation. Although it was incredibly exhausting, it was a terrific success. In July, my children and I ran a car wash and lemonade stand to raise money for Read Nepal. Once again, I was pleasantly surprised by the generosity of my friends and neighbors who contributed donations. Finally, in early September my family and I held our first annual yard sale in the name of charity. Through these efforts, my initial goal of $500 suddenly amassed to $2,000 and I was ecstatic! The $2,000 raised was matched by my husband’s employer, bringing the total donation to READ Nepal up to $4,000. Just like that a small idea ended up being a big help. The funds were donated a week before I boarded the plane to Kathmandu.
READ Nepal was delighted with the donation and informed me that the money would be more than enough to open up an entire library and reading center in rural Nepal. They were beyond thrilled and continually showered me with compliments and called me “their little Angel”. I was so shocked to receive such immense gratitude for what I thought was a small amount in the grand scheme of things. Yet it made me realize how much ANYTHING can do to help, especially in this economic climate. It just goes to show how far your money can go in a third world country. The gift was given and I realized that it is the things you do for others in life that makes you feel the best.
Photo of three Nepali girls dressed in their finest clothing in honor of the Festival of Lights, one of the biggest holidays in Nepal. The girls went from table to table, singing and dancing and then asking for a small donation to help pay for school.
Why the third-eye?
As a world-traveler I was completely unprepared for what I would see in India. Complete and utter chaos, poverty and pollution beyond anything I’d ever seen before in any of my travels. My heart sank. The cultural shock of India hit me like a punch. I was blown away and honestly, a bit afraid.
View of one of many slums in Delhi.
Many unpaved streets
Women living on the streets outside the US Embassy
We arrived at our hotel, thankfully without hitting someone or something in the chaotic lines that made up the roads and I took a deep breath and sigh of relief. I had heard that India was a little chaotic yet what I had just seen stirred up some serious culture shock in my normally open mind. That was when I met the owner of the hotel and he told me the most important thing I’d ever learned about traveling and culture shock: The importance of having and maintaining the third eye.
In the Hindu and Buddhist religions, the third eye is a symbol of enlightenment and wisdom and is commonly seen in Indian and East Asian countries represented by a dot, eye or mark on the forehead of deities or “enlightened beings”.
I received my third eyein a timely manner. Right after we entered the hotel, we were welcomed with a traditional marigold necklace and the third eye dotted on our foreheads to remind us that we needed to see India with an open mind. This idea stuck with me throughout the trip and was probably the best advice I could have ever received. It was so powerful that I decided that it would become the name for my new blog as it incorporated all my ideas about how I wanted to see the world and how I wanted to communicate my travel experiences with others. For travel is definitely an enormous learning adventure and when visiting other cultures, especially ones that are so incredibly different than your own, you must keep a third eye. Otherwise you would miss out on seeing what travel is really about: seeing and learning how other people around the world live, thinking about what you’ve learned, formatting opinions on it, and most importantly, sharing this knowledge with others. If you don’t have a third eye, what could you possibly learn?
Me after I received my marigold necklace and the third eye.
The trip of a Lifetime
Nepal was utterly amazing. The trek was arduous, humbling and long. We hiked over 100 miles doing on average 4-8 hours of strenuous hiking a day at altitudes up to almost 18,000 feet. But what amazed me most was the magical culture and people that I found in Nepal. It is one of the world’s poorest countries in which over 80% of the population is rural and the majority of people survive on less than $2 a day, not even a cup of coffee in the US. Yet, the rich culture and traditions of the people rose above the impoverished conditions that most villagers live in.
Leaving Kathmandu and heading to the mountains.
The beautiful rice terraces and lush green Kathmandu Valley.
My first sight of a fresh coat of snow over the Annapurnas in Manang took my breath away.
Along the Annapurna trail, you walk through many villages and are greeted by the rural Nepalese, goat herders, chicken sellers, mule trains, and yaks.
The Buddhist influence greets you at each village as you pass by Buddhist prayer flags, temples, prayer wheels and the smell of burning juniper.
The Buddhist influence.
Being blessed by a 94-year-old monk who lives in a cave monastery at 13,000 feet near Manang.
After completing the trek, I realized why it is called one of the best treks in the world because no other trail has such magnificent scenery and fascinating culture. No other trek I’ve done has ever gone directly through villages and has allowed me to walk side by side villages doing their daily business. We passed goat herders, mule trains, men carrying 20 chickens on their backs in a wire cage doing his sales rounds, happy children dressed in their worn school uniforms, Buddhist temples, shrines and prayer wheels and prayer flags. It felt like being on another planet. And that is what brings me back to why Nepal changed my life.
It is possible to make a difference: Little things can have big results
As our jet plane took off for home and climbed five thousand, ten thousand and then eighteen thousand feet, I realized in awe that only a few days ago I had been at almost the same altitude as the plane. It was a wild thought; almost a little frightening.
Our porter Chhring, me, our guide Hari and my dad in Manang, where the road will end. We shared many wonderful days together talking, laughing and sharing our cultures.
Where it all began….
As I looked down, I was finally was able to conceptualize how high 18,000 feet truly is. The buildings became smaller and smaller, the cars like ants lining the roads. The vastness of the green, voluptuous rice fields stacked one on top of the other, bursting in color and life. Then, for the last time, I saw the godlike, mighty Himalayas, strikingly beautiful, like a mirage of flying towers soaring upwards into the heavens of the sky. I found it hard to believe that I was really here and had really been there. It was all like a dream.
Nepal was one of those eye-opening moments in my life in which I realized not only how blessed we are to live in a free, prosperous country (where we have the pleasure of the “western toilet, clean streets without piles of garbage, education, opportunity and space), but how important it is for us as privileged people to give back. Visiting Nepal struck a chord in my heart and made me realize how impoverished these wonderfully, peaceful and loving villagers are. Over 80% of Nepalese live in rural areas that have little or no access to education. I believe strongly that education is the key to a better future and a better life. From that trip on, I was determined to change my life and figure out a way to keep giving back.
This young Nepali girl made me smile.
Almost as if an act of fate, I somehow or another found a way to follow my dreams and continue my work fundraising for education in Nepal. As we were leaving Kathmandu, Rajan, the owner of Earthbound Expeditions, our trekking company, gave me his card and mentioned some of the social work he is involved with in Nepal. On the back of the card was the small, grass-roots NGO called HANDS in Nepal. As soon as I got home, I contacted them. It was the perfect fit and my charity work continued.
Over the last six months, I have raised money to help HANDS in Nepala small grass-roots organization created by a young American Danny Chaffin. HANDS in Nepal’s mission is to create educational opportunities and community development programs in rural Nepal by building schools, donating educational supplies, teacher’s salaries, and student scholarships. I have done most of my fundraising work through the sale of beautiful, homemade Nepali goods such as pashmina scarves, yak-hair blankets, and purses and bags. Since May, I’ve sold over $4,000 of my Nepali wares and over half of that profit goes back to HANDS in Nepal (after taking in account the cost of the products, shipping and customs). It has been a win-win opportunity as the sale of the products not only benefit HANDS in Nepal but also the rural, poor Nepalese people who are making and supplies these little treasures for me to sell.
I have also used my second annual yard sale as a way to raise money for HANDS in Nepal. After scraping together all my old clothing and miscellaneous items that we no longer need, I was able to raise $540 for HANDS in Nepal.
Perhaps $540 sounds like nothing. Yet, it does make a difference. What does $540 do in Nepal? This money can buy:
A composition notebook and pencil for 540 children.
-or-
Two school workbooks and a composition notebook for 108 children.
-or-
A school uniform and backpack for 54 children.
-or-
Chalkboard and teacher supplies for 10 classrooms.
-or-
A book set for 27 classrooms.
-or-
Bench seating and work tables for 27 classrooms (approximately 40 children per room)
-or-
Almost enough for one teacher’s salary for an entire year.
-or-
A combination of some of the above items.
In a country where 82% live in rural communities and have little or no access to education, and the average daily salary is less than $2 a day, this small amount of money goes a long way in fighting poverty and helping educate Nepal’s future generation. With a literacy rate of barely over 50%, there is a long way to go. However, it is my belief that every effort, no matter how small, can help make the world a better place.
There is something so special and magical about giving back that just makes me feel complete and my hope is that I can eventually reach the $8,000 mark to build a new school in rural Nepal and have a lasting impact on an entire village and generation of people. It will take time of course to raise the money but with the help of my friends, family and children as well I plan to achieve it!
Photo above of Jan and her son Danny along with the children of the new school made possible by HANDS in Nepal.
Set against the breathtaking backdrop of Lago Nahuel Huapi, Villa La Angostura or Narrow Village is named after its location on a narrow isthmus. It is a sleepy, quiet town which receives much less traffic and tourism than Bariloche. What a pity! For it is a secret treasure of beauty and serenity and there are few others there to share it.
Located about 50 miles/81 km north of Bariloche, this hidden jewel is an amazing place to spend the day or night or couple of nights (if you have the time). Like Bariloche, it is crammed with dramatic, spectacular scenery of the aquamarine Lago Nahuel Huapi juxtaposed against the craggy, snow-covered mountains in the background. Combine the heavenly landscape with fragrant hikes along the beech trees and alluring views, trout fishing galore and all the boating you could desire, Villa La Angostura rated on the top of my list for perfect undiscovered travel destinations.
Of course we couldn’t go there just to look around (you can do that but not my dad and I who are highly energetic and very active people). We had to find a hike! Fortunately Villa La Angostura is full of hikes with sensational views to make it worth your effort.
The main nature lover’s paradise in town is the fabulous Parque Nacional Bosque Arrayanes which is home to one of the only arrayanes forests in the world. Arrayanes are actually bushes not trees and can grow up to 66-feet high! The trail is flat but long. It takes 2-3 hours to walk and you can also do it by bike. Unfortunately we didn’t have enough time to do the entire thing, however, what we did do of the trek was highly worthwhile. The views along the way were absolutely stunning and perhaps some of the finest we had seen during our entire trip to Argentina.
Here they are….
Entering the small, quaint town. What a lovely place!
The main marina at the lake….I love the bird soaring high above and the mountains in the back…WOW!
The entrance to the hike. Note that my dad is wearing shorts. He always wears shorts, no matter what. Thus those earlier photos of him hiking in the snow in shorts, well that is a diehard Minnesotan for you!
Start of the hike….simply beautiful and inviting
My favorite picture from the trip…Springtime in Argentina!
Entering a wooded wonderland….
The gorgeous green-blue water as seen through the trees…..
Ahhhh….the Patagonian Lakes District in its finest! Incredibly beautiful!
thirdeyemom taking it all in and enjoying the view…..
Sadly all good trips must come to an end. This was our last day in Argentina. A beautiful, perfect day. We couldn’t ask for more. Just that we could come back again…which we did in 2008. Hope to see my beloved Argentina again soon!
Stay tuned….thirdeyemom is headed to her beloved Chicago this weekend to get together with an old friend and remember the years living there in the nineties as well as her big fat Chicago wedding in 2000! Thought it would be excellent blogging material! I love the windy city!
