(some catching up to do, so these entries will be dated when i wrote them, not when they were posted)

today was my first experience with relying solely on our wits and resourcefulness to get by. first off, the guide book suggested that the easiest thing to do to visit the summer palace was to take a taxi from the subway. so upon arrival, we approached taxi driver after taxi driver with out mangled pinyin and hopeful “summer palace?” each one smiled, pretended to consult our guidebook, look thoughtfully at the pinyin, etc., but bless, them, we might as well have been speaking martian. after the first 8 drivers, it became clear we needed a new communication strategy. i pointed out a western bookstore and bar, and headed straight to see if i could find a map. jonno, on the other hand, headed straight for the bar, found someone who spoke english, got them to write out destination in chinese, and took it to the nearest cab, who nodded in understanding and motioned us in.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is why i married him.

First things first: the internet connection here is incredibly slow (maybe all the filtering?), so although I will continue to try, I’m not sure how soon I’ll be able to post pics.

So i lost the bet – I’ve had a head cold since we landed and am therefore officially the first person to get sick. IT is not at all eased by the massive quatities of dust infiltrating my respiratory system. Also not helping: the fluffy clouds of pollen which make walking around not dissimilar from floating through the aftermath of a gigantic pillow fight. And unfortunately the random stray puff which makes its way into my nostril, does nothing to clear out the grime already in there. Not to mention tHe fact that I managed to quit smoking 10 months ago turns out to be of little benefit in a country where breathing and smoking are nearly one and the same anyway. My poor lungs.

We journeyed to the Great wall yesterday – a three hour bus trip from beijing, which lends proof to the theory that it’s not the quality of the roads that matters, so much as the quality of the suspension system. The journey was only made longer by the fact that in spite of the jet lag, i could not nap in either direction. To explain: I am not a very high maintenance girl – I can deal with the pit toilets, and the indiscriminate evacuating of mucus everywhere… however the *only* thing which really grosses me out is grubby headrest covers. so my phobia about stranger’s hair prevented me from catching a few winks.

We elected to climb the section of the great wall which stretches from jinshanling to simatai – a rigourous 3 hour trek. Jinshanling is the less touristed and unrestored section of the wall. And by unrestored i mean allowed to quietly crumble into disrepair for the last 600 years. the wall is immense and vast and on a scale completely inconceivable even to today’s engineers. it is high and deep and passes through some of the most inhospitable land to be found. something so huge and untouched presents a formidable challenge even to a relatively fit hiker – and woe betide you if you are even moderately out of shape. “Hiking” is somewhat misleading terminology – in fact much of the passage involves nimble (or in my case, not-so-nimble) scrmabling of unending piles of loose rock and decayed stonework, surmounting incredibly long and steep stretches of perilously narrow stair, and navigating several areas where one is in distinct danger of tumbling *off the wall* with even the slightest misstep, landing bonebreakingly far below. Being a bit of a natural klutz, I admit to being quite scared at several points, and consider it nothing short of a miracle that i did not fall once.

So we huffed and puffed and clambered and climbed and sweated for three hours to arrive at simatai, an area under heavy restoration by the government. And by restoration I mean completely redoing. At the great wall, the forbidden city, in fact, all over beijing (presumbly in time for the olympics) there is lots of “restoration” taking place. Unfortunately, “authenticity” has precious little to do with the notion of “restoration” in china. things are not lovingly restored to their former antiqued glory, but rather rebuilt, as if they had been just finished yesterday. (in fact, today at the summer palace, i audibly gasped to see workmen scrambling around on qing era rooftops, haphazardly putting new tiles on.) so if we had started at simatai, i would have had to admit to being gravely disappointed. “Hey! Look at the concrete they poured last week! Just like the original great wall!” It’s not really conducive to communing with the spirit of ghengis khan, now, is it?

overall, however, i feel truly grateful to have seen the wall in its original state, and to have had the chance to get a real feel for the amazing feats of architectural brilliance and sheer manpower required to construct a structure of such imposing magnatude that it’s still being marvelled at 600 years later.

My thigh muscles, on the other hand, are still screaming at me.

next: we’re heading to datong and wutai shan, on of the sacred buddhist mountain ranges. will try to check in there.

no matter how different beijing may be in a million little ways, at it’s heart, it is still a big city – and i find that comforting. i seem to have a strange innate grasp for big cities – i know how to navigate and operate them in a way i can’t quite describe. i feel at ease, no matter how foreign the language, and it is a gift to be able to get my bearings, even when i can’t make out a single word or sign.

beijing is pretty full-on. it’s gritty and pushy and smelly and incredibly noisy, even for someone used to the urban hum. yet things are also kept refreshingly simple. we took the metro from the airport to our hostel, and it makes you appreciate how little there needs to be to complicate the task. we got on a queue, paid 3yuan each, got a small slip of paper, and gave it to the ticket attendant at the entrance. end of transation. no machines to break down, no fare zones to learn, no computerized cards to go haywire. simple.

beijing is not an easy city. god help you if you are less than fuly able-bodied. it’s not a city for the squeamish – if the thought of unrefridgerated meat, copious amounts of spit, and squat toilets where the bullseye has been missed make you squirm, then this is not the city for you.

but it’s an exciting study in contrasts. ancient history lies cheek-by-jowl with cutting edge modernism. traditional crumbling terraced hutongs in narrow alleyways are situated just opposite brand new highrises. dubious hygiene practices and state of the art electronics. sparkling clean streets and thickly polluted air.

today we awoke to a city which has been coated in a fine mist of yellow dust, courtesy of the winds from the gobi desert. masses of bicyclists headed off to work wearing their finest face masks, and a golden haze hung in the air. we decided to spend the day walking about, and headed first to the forbidden city. we entered throught the furthest gate and saw the whole thing in reverse, which turned out to be even more spectacular, as the scale of the city just continued to build in size, until we reached the climactic and impossibly large entrace. it truly is a city unto itself, just going on and on with gate after gate, building after building. a whole building which functioned solely as the dressing room for the emperor for state ocassions. the mind boggles at the scope of the detail and breadth of sheer size and grandeur. from there we passed through tiananmen square – a sober reminder of the political oppression which exists even today, and the pervasive state control of the people’s will. we wandered to the hutong shopping district with its shops featuring everything from tacky memoribilia to shoe insoles, and it’s sensory onslaught of sights, sounds and smells. there is food everywhere you turn, from backstreet kebabs grilled on the pavement, to corn on the cob hawked by a vendor in plastic bags, to ornate restaurants with staff in costume whose sole job is to stand outside and entice the passersby. we then walked to the posh shopping area which rivals oxford street or madison avenue. we bought exotic snacks to sate out curiosity, and familiar dumplings to fill the stomach. we must have walked 15 miles if we walked a step, and by the time we returned to the hostel, our nose and lungs and mouths were full of the choking yellow dust. next investment is a face mask.

tomorrow we’re off to the great wall, so more then.

zaijian for now.

So here we are. about 16 hours from leaving for the airport. I have winnowed everything i will be carrying around for the next 6 months down to this:

meanwhile, my husband has not yet packed a single thing.

suppose that tells you just a little bit about the difference in approach. and that’s probably a very good thing.

we definitely have our roles to play in this trip. i am the planner who’s trying not to be. he’s the drifter who’s trying to be a bit more organised.

i am excited, and a little nervous. doing some last minute ipod loading (what was I *thinking* with that janet jackson cd?!?)

but really – this is a big one on the list. something i’ve wanted to do, dreamt of doing for so long – yet never really thought would actually happen. through sheer stubbornness and a healthy dose of self-sacrifice, we made this happen.

I am inordinately proud, a little bit terrified, and incredibly tired. time for a good night’s sleep. next stop, beijing.

see you there.

less than 48 hours to go.  stress stress stress with last minute preparations and snags.  so i’m sitting here being cranky and lamenting a wasted evening, and j says to me, "that’s okay, sunday night we can go out for dim sum."

Now that’s what i call a mood lifter. 

now that we’re saying goodbye to people, it’s all starting to feel very real. and i don’t think that i have as yet properly acknowledged the help and assistance of all the friends and family who made this possible. like kim and andy, who lent us a freeview box which made the last 10 months more tolerable, who generously agreed to watch after most of our shit for the next six months, and who have been so steadfast and inspiring in so many ways, from inception to culmination.

like kerryn and tracey – who kept our “social calendar” on life support by continually asking us to do stuff, no matter how often we turned them down. by agreeing time and again to hang out with us, having a homemade dinner and watching a dvd on a saturday night, and calling it “entertainment”. By letting us invade their space with our luggage and live in their lounge these past two weeks. lending us their car. lending us their furniture. being more supportive than anyone has a right to ask their friends to be.

like my expat and other “traveller” friends, who have showed us how it’s done, shared their knowledge, shown genuine interest and excitement for us, and helped keep everything in perspective when it all just seemed too much to endure.

like the families. who have put aside their trepidation in order to be enthusiatic and excited cheerleaders. who have shown their caring and consideration in innumerable ways. who we will miss so very much, and who will think of us, worry about us while we are gone, and keep the homefires burning until we return safely.

thank you all. i cannot thank you enough. we could never have gotten this far alone.

and we will never be alone – for you are with us always.

Woke up a little anxious, after having a dream in which an old, old issue was resolved – but not in the way i had hoped. and if you can’t get biased closure in your own dreams, where can you get it?

but also, i think i’m just feeling a bit unprepared. today is the first day since leaving work that we have no errands to run, and i feel like i should be *doing* something. what, exactly, i have no idea. what else do you do 7 days before you travel around the world? i’ve given myself the task of putting music on my ipod. a fascinating exercise – what was I *thinking* when I bought that janet jackson album??!

i don’t know – it’s difficult to know just how much i should be winging it. j made fun of me the other day, as i was re-organising my pack. i’m taking a 35 litre pack, which is only slightly larger than an oversized book bag. i deliberately chose something quite small to keep me from overpacking (and thus keep the number of instances where i chuck it off in tears and despair to a minimum.) but then i was asking him about travel towels (microfiber ultralight quicky-dry thingies) and he just laughed. i only have a single guidebook about china since that’s all i can carry at any one time, but am worried about not knowing enough about the other 12 countries. i know you learn as you go along, but surely i should have at least an *idea* of what I want to see? do i really want to get to laos without having a clue?

a few weeks ago, i wrote this in an email to a friend:

I’m finding myself surprisingly laissez faire about the whole thing. All I’ve really done so far is flick through an old Lonely PLanet on China. I suppose I’m bearing in mind that aside from the 2 or 3 things I really HAVE to see, I just want to *experience* it all. Y’know, I am convinced that the reason I was so blown away by Rome is because I didn’t even bother to open a guidebook before I got there. So I felt like my eyes were completely fresh to everything. I want that kind of experience. Some friends of our just got back from 6 months in S America… and I’m suddenly acutely aware of just how quickly this once-in-a-lifetime trip will pass.

i don’t know – i’m overthinking all this. where did that chilled out person go? i’ve done very well to remain relaxed and casual about the whole thing so far, but with the realisation that there’s a week left, i am starting to stress a little. j is overly relaxed – and that makes me a bit anxious as well.

but really, if i had to get on a plane tomorrow, i could. there’s nothing i need that i can’t buy on the road. nothing i have to do that couldn’t be done long distance if necessary. it’s a waiting game and i’m *looking* for things to worry about. sigh.

i’m practicing living out of my pack, which makes for some interesting hair days. i finally got a haircut the other day, as i’d not had one in more than 6 months whilst trying to grow it out. because unfortunately when i got it chopped last summer, it foolishly had not occurred to me that i would need to be able to pull it into a ponytail for the trip. hairstyles that you have to actually wash and “do” every day are very cute when you have your own bathroom and access to hot water, but aren’t really all that suitable when you don’t know where your next shower is coming from. when you have limited space, what’s the *one* single styling product you’d bring? I’m going with aveda wax. i have a feeling my bandannas are going to get a lot of use.

what about rain – do you bring an umbrella? or a waterproof jacket? do you really need a pack cover? will I be warm enough with just the fleece? or should I bring the wool cardigan that will be difficult to wash? do i spend £60 to get my malaria tablets here or wait and get them for cheap in bangkok? what if I have side effects?

see, these are the silly things i’m worried about. argh, i’m just in limbo and at loose ends – which doesn’t make for interesting blogging, so i’ll stop there.