We arrived in Xi'an, after our brutal train journey, at 7am in the morning; exhausted, smelly, and truly sick of eating Chinese pot-noodles already (a feeling which would worsen severely as our trip continued). We headed to our hostel, which was two pounds a night, and truly the best place we had stayed so far. Traditional, spacious, with courtyards, a sun terrace, and a bar downstairs.
After showering etc. we decided to head to the City Walls. Incidentally, Xi'an is the only city in China which still has the entirety of its city walls still intact; and you can walk around them or hire bikes. Of course, we went for the bike option. Me and Keegan shared a tandem and looked like absolute nerds as we cycled about the place. Vinny and Stu opted for the singular bicycle variety. A wise choice, as I think they were keen to avoid looking like a couple. First of all, we cycled round to the end of the southern wall, when all of a sudden Vinny's pedal fell off. Consequently, we made a hasty retreat back to the cycle distribution centre, to replace Vinny's bike. A short journey which involved Vinny holding onto Stu as he towed the Scotsman back to the starting line. After the switch was made, we cycled the perimeter of the city. The vista was far from jaw-dropping, but the cycling novelty created all kinds of excitement. We all had a go on the tandem, we weaved in and out of pot-holes, and we ate amazing cola/lemonade ice lollies half way round.
When we got back, we freshened up, and then got in a taxi to the train station. I'm pretty sure this taxi ride was basically a real-life manifestation of a scene from the computer game Crazy Taxi or Grand Theft Auto. The driver was truly mental! He weaved in and out of cars at an alarming speed. I'm pretty sure at one point, he even asked Chewbacca to push us into hyperdrive. Our own lives did not pass before our eyes, but the lives of several others certainly did. Literally within the space of ten seconds the driver nearly ran over A) a toddler, B) a woman pushing a baby in a pram and C) an octogenarian. A little shaken up, we actually made it in one piece, and booked our tickets for our next train to Chengdu in a few days time. That night we went out for some food in a restaurant with a menu which was written entirely in Chinese script. We just pointed and guessed, and ended up with some fantastic local dishes including a whole fish in a really tasty curry sauce. That night we had a few drinks with John, and Jess (whom we had previously met in Shanghai) and a Kiwi chap called Declan, who was an absolute charmer. He also found everything we said which was intended to be funny, actually funny; therefore, he went even higher up in our estimations.
The next day we decided to undertake our first organised trip of the entire journey. It was to the Terracotta Warriors, and a lot of friends we had made joined us on the trip too. Before, we got to the site of the warriors, we were made to stop off at a real tourist-trap factory, where replica Terracotta Warriors were made and sold for outrageous prices. Fortunately, I was unable to fit a life-size, archer made from jade (the precious stone, not Goody) into my 65 litre rucksack ; and therefore, no purchases were made.
Don't get me wrong, the actual Terracotta Army is certainly worth seeing, but as expected/warned it was a little disappointing. The intricacy of the warriors is incredible, and the sheer size and amount of them on display was mind-blowing. However, once you've seen one clay warrior (although the face of each individual warrior is entirely unique apparently) you have seen them all. Moreover, the experience is certainly not enhanced by the amount of tourists clammering for a photo, and the overbearing aircraft hanger, which the statues are contained in. The whole experience sort of lacked a certain magic. The idea and the history of the original Warrior production is the facinating aspect, but this was not overly-well explained by our charming, yet hapless tour-guide who bobbed around the place smiling, and holding a cuddly flower toy aloft, instead of the archetypal umbrella. "Follow the flower!" was the most heard sentence of the day.
That night we met some more people at the hostel, who we visited the vibrant Muslim Quarter with. These people were thus- a Glaswegian guy called Andrew (a Rangers Fan), an Aussie called Rohan, and a group of Canadian girls, who were actually all travelling separately- a pair of young opera singing students, a mandarin speaking girl called Lindsay, and a slightly over-enthusiastic Chinese girl called Dori (like the forgetful fish from Finding Nemo) who had lived in Canada for a few years, and had now subsequently renounced her chinese heritage completely.
The Muslim Quarter is a bustling street market area with a massive array of tat on sale, but also has amazing street food by the bucket load. We ate- Chicken Kebabs, Spicy Beef Pancakes, Sweet donuts filled with sweet kiwi sauce or dates, and some gelatinous rice cake things which upon first glance looked like the most amazing fried potatoes mixed with chilli and garlic. Fair to say, the rice cakes were a tad disappointing. After exploring the stalls, and sampling the plethora of culinary delights, we got some road beers for the walk back to the hostel, and then picked up a crate of Tsingtaos from the local shop. We then spent the evening chatting, and getting drunk on the sundeck. Andrew also bought a Chinese spirit called Baijo, which is rather popular it seems for two main reasons- 1) it is 60% proof, and 2) it costs 60 english pence for a bottle. However, despite the drunken revelry, this was also a sad evening. Not only did Celtic not win the Scottish Premier League (Andrew was happy. Vinny was not), but Damian Duff and his wonder strike (own goal) relegated Newcastle Utd to the Championship next year. Gutted. Not cool Damian, not bloody cool!
The next day we got an extended lie in. Then we went and bartered for some things in the Muslim Quarter. Vinny bought a new day bag for just 5 pounds, which incidentally ripped in half about a week later as soon as we arrived in Hong Kong. Then, that night we got the night train to Chengdu along with John, and Dori.
Chengdu was next, and with this came the prospect of seeing Pandas.
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