January 9, 2017 by trs

Mauritius for Christmas

Even if you have never heard of Mauritius or are not quite sure where it is, you have probably heard of its most famous bird, the Dodo. Yes, the large hapless, flightless bird extinct since the 17th century is a symbol of the island country. It is on their coat of arms, their currency, their postage, and tourist maps. Yet there is so much more to this crowded tiny island nation.

A major feature of Northwest Mauritius is the Moka Mountain range featuring Pieter Both Mountain, the island’s second largest peak with a large rock perched on top

I was giddy with excitement as C and I headed to the airport to begin our trip to Mauritius. This trip had been long in the making–when some three years before a FS friend of mine learned her second post would be to the island nation. Initially we were to visit our first Christmas in Shanghai but an unexpected addition to KB’s family meant we had to place our trip on hold for another year. But at last it was time for our trip and for the first time in what seemed a very long time I would be etching a new country into my travel belt.

Mauritius might seem a long way to go for vacation and honestly before my friend was posted there I had not given much thought to visiting. Once in Shanghai though it seemed that the former Isle de France was the place to go given the number of billboards advertising Air Mauritius flights around where I lived. On the visa line, even the applicants with little foreign travel might list Mauritius among their international destinations alongside South Korea, Thailand, Vietnam, and the Maldives. It was destiny.

One of our first views of Mauritius

We landed at 7 am. Yes, 7 am. Almost immediately I was given a lesson in island patience. While on the plane, the Air Mauritius flight attendants had given out the immigration landing cards. Unfortunately they did not have enough for everyone on the plane and we were two of the unlucky ones. No problem, the flight attendants assured us, we could get them before immigration. Except they were out too. It was maddening to see almost no line for immigration and yet be unable to do anything because no forms were available. Several of us waylaid an official-looking person but he too seemed perplexed by our situation and asked yet another person to locate the forms. It took about 20 minutes for someone to return with forms in hand and we swarmed around him. He had only 7 to 10 forms and there were more than 10 people waiting. I decided this was not the time to be polite and grabbed two forms from his hand. I filled them out quickly and vowed to not look back at those who were left behind. I had a vacation to get started!

C and M enjoy the crystal clear waters of Grand Baie

We were picked up at the airport by a driver arranged by KB and then whisked off to the other side of the island, a whole hour and change away. We slept most of the way. Then we arrived at KB’s home and were immediately welcomed by the family. We had an easy day. First KB and I sat by the pool and talked as the kids swam. Then we took the kids to the Beach House Restaurant for lunch. As we drove into Grand Baie and I caught sight of the water for the first time I gasped. Wow. The Beach House is located right on the bay and as we waited for our meal (the service was on island time so we waited quite awhile) the kids frolicked on the beach and in the shallow warm waters. The afternoon involved more play time for the kids and then we attended a birthday party for a local boy.

On our second day KB, myself and the kids drove from the northwest to the southwest (again a whole hour to cross the island!) for a day at the Casela Nature Park, a mix of zoo, petting farm, and activity park. There is quite a lot to do at the park, but much of it, like walking with lions, driving ATVs, riding horses or camels, or ziplining, were for those aged well above 4 or 5 years old and thus not on our agenda. Still, the kids enjoyed watching the 4D movies (well, 2 of the 3 kids did) seeing the birds, feeding the bunnies (not so much the rather aggressive deer), seeing tortoises, feeding the giraffes and playing on the playground. We still managed to spend nearly 5 hours at the zoo (nearly 45 minutes of it in the line for a shuttle bus from the giraffes back to the main park. Major fail.). That evening KB showed us around La Croisette, one of the few true shopping malls in the country sporting one of only two cinemas on the island.

The Chateau de Labourdonnais – this just does not do it justice.

The third day began with KB and I leaving the kids with KB’s extremely amenable husband while she and I indulged in some mommy only massages. We then picked up the kids and headed to Labourdonnais, a 19th century sugar mill and estate restored to a museum, garden, and working orchard. We all had lunch first at a lovely cafe adjacent to the grounds and then KB insisted she would take all the kids through the gardens so I could have an hour of peace to visit the chateau museum. (I am SO grateful) Then after some waiting (with some very impatient small children) we all took the toy train through the orchards. Following the Chateau our next stop was the L’Aventure du Sucre Sugar Museum and Factory. As you may begin to guess sugar production has a long and checkered history in Mauritius. The sweet stuff has been manufactured there since 1696 and remains the country’s second largest export today (after processed fish)! So the history of sugar is intertwined with the island’s history. The museum makes great use of its space in an old sugar factory. Informative displays of sugar’s role in the history and economy of the island wind around actual gears and boilers and the chimney, all part of the production of this important crop.

Our fourth day started with a glass bottom boat adventure in Grand Baie with KB’s husband and the three kids. (KB gets sea sick easily and sat this activity out). Then KB and I escaped again to have a just friends (sans kids) lunch and then we headed to Goodlands for some shopping in a colorful Indian bazaar (the majority ethnic group is Indo-Mauritian, making up 68% of the population) and a visit to the Shipmodels Factory and Museum. We returned in time to collect C for a late afternoon photo shoot on the beach with a talented local photographer and then the whole lot of us had dinner at Luigi’s, reportedly the best Italian restaurant on the island.

A worker puts some finishing touches on a model ship

The following day we said farewell to KB and her family and we headed back across the island to pick up a rental car at the airport. It was a little hard to find my rental car as I had apparently booked with the one company that does not have an office at the airport (OLA) and I spent 30 minutes wandering around until I found a guy with a sign. We followed him to the parking lot where he did the paperwork in the trunk of the car. But it was a car, it looked good, it had a child seat included, and so I rolled with it. Immediately I was reminded that I would be driving on the left hand side of the road as I backed out of the parking space and ran over the curb. I did manage to get us out of the parking lot and to the hotel, all of a mile away. Once checked in and fed I got us back out on the road and on our way to La Vanille Nature Park.

It was an adventure being on the road with only a basic tourist map with a bunch of squiggly lines that I hoped approximated true roads. We drove through several small towns that presented challenges to driving–two lane roads with no shoulder, no sidewalks, just a couple of feet to the residences and businesses. Along the sides of the road people walked, sometimes two or three abreast, others pedaled old bicycles weaving like drunks, dogs trotted without a care in the world. Buses stopped with little warning and little room to pull over. Delivery trucks and people stopping at stores or to talk to a friend did the same. Every turn I tried to make, I first turned on the windshield wipers. And road signs tended to announce a turn just feet before I needed to make it. It is a wonder I found the park at all!.

And when not passing through a town these are the roads of Mauritius. Lovely but no indication of where you are or where you are going. Yet amazing for a country with one of the world’s highest population densities to have open areas like this

I think La Vanille was originally just a crocodile park and then a crocodile and tortoise park and now it is a Nature Park because they added a few other animals like some Indonesian deer, some sad Indonesian macaque monkeys, and reportedly some mongoose and lemurs although their enclosures appeared empty. Still, I am not a crocodile fan the giant tortoises were great. Their enclosure was large, you could feed them, and kids under 10 were allowed to sit on large, resting ones. It is also a breeding facility and they have extensive information on their program and animals of all ages from egg to likely nearing 100 years. C especially liked this part and the pony rides in the petting zoo. The funny part was the tour bus loads of 40-60 year old visitors. Something just seemed odd about that — the lack of children visitors.

The following day I was pretty worn out by my Mauritius driving experience and bored by our food choices at the hotel. So I came up with a plan to head to La Bagatelle, the largest mall in the country and then the nearby Eureka creole plantation house. But I missed the exit. I figured I would turn around at the next roundabout, but there were no more. So instead I just kept going and ended up at Le Caudan waterfront in Port Louis. It seems to be the shopping and restaurant district in the capital. After I figured out not only how to get there but to also park in the crowded parking garage (yay me!), we had lunch, a stroll along the waterfront, and visited the Blue Penny Museum, so named after one of the most famous, rare, and valuable stamps in the world, and the first to be issued in Mauritius. Like the Sugar Factory Museum, the Blue Penny presents the cultural and economic history of Mauritius, tying it to the history of a product and a service — the postal system. It is a small but lovely museum — just the right size to visit with a 4, almost 5, year old.

On December 23rd I struggled with trying again to find the Eureka plantation as it would be closed on the 24th and 25th, or a visit to the Chamarel area. I went with the latter. Things started off rocky as I drove through the same town Plaine Magnien a good 5 times. I cannot exactly explain why. Every turn I made, every time around a roundabout, it all led to that darn town. I started to sing a made-up song about the town that would not let us go in order to calm my nerves (and keep me from just giving up and driving back to the hotel) and to amuse C in the back seat. It worked because once I started singing I finally figured out what I was doing wrong. And then we drove through several more really small towns. For what seemed like forever. At long last I saw a turn off for the Bois Cheri tea plantation and factory. It seemed a good place to stop.

A view of the Bois Cheri plantation from the hilltop restaurant

Bois Cheri is the island’s first tea plantation, established in 1892. Tea is the country’s second major crop, after sugar. A visit to Bois Cheri includes a visit to a small museum, a tour of the factory (interesting enough for a 4, almost 5, year old!), and a tea tasting. It was just the stop I needed before getting back in the car and driving on to Chamarel. At long last we arrived. I had begun to suspect the whole thing was an elaborate joke on tourists. Honestly, the whole purpose of driving all this way is to visit the 7 Colored Earth of Chamarel, and some of the reviews I had read online had warned me of the likely disappointment. But perhaps since I had rather low expectations I found the place larger and prettier than I had imagined. But the drive back was longer and less fun than I expected. I joked with friends online that I had driven through every small town in the south with the hashtag #leavenotownunseen. It sure felt like it.

Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam Botanical Garden

Christmas Eve we drove to the far north of the island to meet up with RS and her son K who previously served in Shanghai and are now in South Africa. (RS is also a single mom in the Foreign Service and is awesome). I had thought we might visit them from Malawi but when I found out just days before our departure that they too would be in Mauritius it was too much of an opportunity to pass up. My plan was to visit the National Botanical Garden on the way up — I checked my phone before heading out and it was supposed to take about 30 minutes to get to the Garden. Um, yeah. Nearly two hours later I gave up and just headed toward RS’s hotel. And just for fairness sake I made sure to drive through every small town on the north of the island. C and K were thrilled to have some time to play and as they frolicked in the pool, at lunch, and in the room RS and I had a chance to catch up. Luckily enough on the drive back I quite easily found the botanical gardens (you know, Murphy’s Law).

Our last day was Christmas. With a late flight back we took full advantage of a late check out and just binge watched the Disney Channel, as one does. Then I realized I had lost C’s one pair of pants and we were heading back to winter. Oh no! I cannot seem to go on vacation anymore without losing something and I did not want 1. my child to freeze and 2. to face the hard stares and tut-tutting disapproval of the Chinese mom mafia when they see my child without pants. Don’t worry, I improvised. Shorts but a pair of the Air Mauritius in-flight socks pulled up to her thighs. Yeah, I’m smart. I’m no dodo. (see what I did there?)

November 20, 2016 by trs

Chiang Mai Times

Way, way back in June I was thinking about vacations. Well, daydreaming mad hard about vacations actually. I had returned from my R&R a month before and I knew there was the long, busy summer of Shanghai-style visa adjudications and the G-20 timeframe ahead of me. I would need something to sustain me. Planning vacations makes people happy. Studies have shown that even planning vacations can have longer term happiness benefits than the vacation itself. I certainly wholeheartedly embrace this.

Thailand: worth visiting just for the food (pineapple curry chicken rice served at a riverside restaurant)

I looked at November. Thailand came to mind. My daughter likes elephants; although she tells me that “all animals” are her favorite animal she definitely has a top three: horses, cats, and elephants. I recalled my friends JK1 and JK2, who had served with us in Ciudad Juarez, were in Chiang Mai. I sent a quick message to JK1 and she confirmed they would be in town and would love us to visit. I booked the tickets.

I first visited Thailand the winter of 1995/1996. (Holy moly I am getting old) I was participating in a student/volunteer program at Trinity College of Quezon City and I traveled to Thailand to meet up with friends I had previously taught English with in Korea. We hung out together in Bangkok and then went our separate ways. I traveled north to Ayutthaya and Chiang Mai, and then south to Koh Pha Ngan and Khao Sok National Park, and then west to Kanchanaburi. Over the years I traveled several more times to vacation around the country. A week in conjunction with a week in Malaysia, another week combined with a trip to Cambodia, and a week along with a trip to Laos. I also had several short trips to Bangkok–long layovers between Japan and Europe, a few days stopover to get a visa for Burma or to head to Brunei, and on my last trip several days for a counter-terrorism conference. As I thought about it, I found it surprising that although I have a Masters degree in Southeast Asian Studies and used to spend quite a lot of time in the region and in Thailand, I had not been to Southeast Asia since joining the State Department over five years ago.

Signs like this – in remembrance of the king – were all over the city

Less than a month prior to our trip the beloved Thai King Bhumibol Adulyadej, who had reigned over the country for over 70 years, passed away. The people of Thailand were overcome with grief and the government announced a one year period of mourning. For the first 30 days people were to avoid celebrations and bright colors and this would include some and perhaps all of the activities associated with the Loi Krathong Festival to be held around the time of our visit. Packing my suitcase full of somber colored clothing felt odd.

When we arrived it was raining. It seemed fitting. All around people were dressed predominantly in black and white. And yet…although the clothing was subdued there was still a lightness in the air. As we walked out of the terminal to see my friend JK2 and Little JK, I too could feel myself lighten.

We headed to a late lunch to meet JK1 who had finished up work at the Consulate. The lunch was fresh and delicious. The conversation and company more than worth the trip. Afterwards we headed to a mall near their home and C and Little JK enjoyed some time crawling through a giant kids jungle gym while JK1 and I tried in vain to keep up. Then we headed back to the JK homestead, a beautiful two story home with two car garage surrounded by a yard full of lush green tropical foliage. They put us up in a cute little guest cottage connected to the main house by a wooden deck. It did occur to me that I might have made a mistake not bidding on my friend’s job.

The weather forecast for the second day too was rain. Thailand in general and Chiang Mai in particular is more of a place with outdoor pursuits – traipsing over historic temples, lying on tropical beaches, hiking through jungles and/or mountains in search of hill tribes or waterfalls or breathtaking vistas or all of the above. JK1 suggested we check out Art in Paradise, a 3D art museum where visitors can, through a bit of illusion and creativity, place themselves into the artwork. I had no other ideas and a quick online search suggested it was or had once been the world’s largest 3D museum and enough visitors gave it a thumbs up. So off we went. I could hardly imagine that we would spend more than 2 hours there laughing and shooting photos that seemed to place us in some fairly outrageous scenarios.

Just two of the fun photos taken in the Art of Paradise 3D museum

Our museum experience was followed by yet another amazing lunch in a simple but attractive riverside restaurant. We then headed to the mall. Because the JKs needed to get some items for Little JK and I, in my pursuit of clinching the Mother of the Year Award before the year ended, needed to purchase C some underwear having forgotten to pack a single pair except for those she was wearing.

Before I was a mother I rarely forgot to pack items nor did I lose things. Alas now I am very adept at both. Soon after our successful clothing acquisition disaster struck: We lost White Cat. You may recall from our trip to Hong Kong in January we lost beloved Black Cat, C’s most precious stuffie. White Cat became the new favorite and accompanied C everywhere – to dance class and preschool, out to eat, to Disneyland, and on every single vacation. If you look carefully, White Cat is in each of the photos above, clutched in C’s hand. But we went into an arcade and the sights and sounds and games were enticing. C put her down to play a game. Less than five minutes later and I was uttering “Where is White Cat?” (easily the sentence I have said more often than any other since January). I looked down the aisle we had just walked. I looked at each of the three game locations we had been before. I crawled on my hands and knees (in a kids’ arcade!) looking under each and every machine. I knew she was gone. I had little doubt that some other child had snatched her up. Despite her once white but now grey and matted coat, her scratched eyes, her lost whiskers and the small hole in the back of her head, she was still a very cute stuffed animal. I looked for 20 minutes at least and JK1 and JK2 looked as well, inquiring with staff and arcade management. We did not find her. And for the next hour or so we were all treated to C’s forlorn and gut-wrenching wails as we walked to the car and drove back to JKs’ home.

Lanna fabrics at the traditional market

The next morning I woke up in the cottage to absolute silence. I looked around and C was gone. I found the sliding doors open but saw her shoes were sitting neatly side by side in front of the doors to the main house. I thought of going in after her but there was something peaceful and not ominous about the quiet (and anyone who has a small child will know what I am talking about) so I slipped back into the cottage and enjoyed the peaceful solitude another 30 minutes.

Little JK and C were playing companionably together — Little JK had won C’s heart when he offered up two of his own favorite stuffies for her to hug the previous night as she slept. After breakfast JK1 took a call from a colleague and our day’s plan began to form.

We met JK1’s local colleague, his wife, and 5 year old daughter at a traditional Lanna market. Apparently this market occurs only once a year and we were lucky not only to be in town but also for the glorious weather. C immediately took to 5 year old Witta and the two ran off together with Witta’s mother in tow. The market was lovely — makeshift bamboo and straw stalls or tables set up on both sides of a narrow road, in green grass yards to the side of people’s homes. For sale were traditional fabrics, handmade dolls, clothing, foodstuffs and beverages like the very refreshing and eye-poppingly purple colored Butterfly Pea iced tea. Then the JKs and C and I headed to lunch. We ate at yet another fantastic restaurant – set in an idyllic green location near the Chiang Mai Night Safari. Besides delicious food, the restaurant had a grassy picnic like area and a children’s play area. As JK1, JK2 and I sat in pleasant conversation at a shaded table by a koi pond complete with small waterfall and bridge, C and Little JK made friends with the Thai and Thai-Chinese children at the playground. At that particular moment I could not imagine ever returning to Shanghai.

Sunset across the lake at the Chiang Mai night safari

Although it was not yet night (in fact only 2 PM) we headed next to the Night Safari. Outside the gates you can pet and feed deer that wander around the parking lot and area by the entrance, and also feed giraffes. The 40 baht(US$1.12) I paid for the giraffe food and chance to feed them and take photos was so much more affordable than the AUS$25 (US$18.34) I paid in Sydney. The park opened at 3:30 and JK1’s friends and daughter once again joined us. The zoo is in a beautiful setting around a large artificial lake with Doi Suthep (Mt. Suthep) rising in the background. We rode the two trams and walked the 1.2 km Jaguar Trail around the lake. I generally avoid zoos in developing countries, but I found the Chiang Mai Night Safari to be pleasant with pretty good enclosures; the animals appeared, to my untrained eye, to be well cared for.

We woke the next morning in our hotel room. I loved staying with friends but I also try to be really conscious of the toll a guest can take on hosts. JK1 is one of the hardest working Foreign Service Officers you might meet and I felt she needed a weekend day to relax with her family. I too needed a break. The weeks leading up to the vacation — the bidding process and the election — had taken their toll on me as well. C and I spent the morning at the hotel pool where we met a local Scotsman, 15 years living in Chiang Mai, and his 4 year old son Felix. They invited C to join in the game of “diving for the tamarind seed” in the pool. Felix had brought a hard, dark brown burnished tamarindseed about an inch in diameter and the tossed it in the pool and dove effortlessly to retrieve it. Although C is a pretty good swimmer for 4 she could not out swim the fish-like Felix, yet he still made sure she could play.

This handsome feline was one of the stars at They Call Me Cat

Afterwards C and I walked about 15 minutes towards the old city. I pushed the stroller across a two lane traffic bridge over the Ping river, and along some very uneven sidewalks, to the They Call Me Cat Cafe. I have only anecdotal evidence, but I would guess that the two countries with the most number of cafes where one can dine with cats (or bunnies or other cute animals) would be Japan and Thailand. I had to give it a try. They Call Me Cat did not disappoint. A small cafe with some 10 very fancy felines and some surprisingly delicious fries and smoothies, the place was just what we needed for a light lunch. For the rest of the afternoon we rested at the hotel until 7 PM when we boarded the free hotel shuttle to the Chiang Mai market. Although it had been over a decade since I had been there last it felt instantly familiar. I had no agenda, no plan to buy anything. We browsed a little. The striking kathoey (ladyboys) passing out flyers to their show fawned over C. Then we stopped at a restaurant to enjoy yet another amazing Thai meal as we watched the activity in the market and C enjoyed the restaurant singer. I felt so content.

Apparently elephants paint better than me

On Monday, our last full day, C and I went out to the Mae Sa Elephant camp. Our arranged driver picked us up at 8:30 AM for the 50 minute drive. I know that some people have criticized Mae Sa as a tourist trap with poor treatment of the animals. I did a lot of reading beforehand reading reviews from both sides and conducting some of my own research. Looking at the other elephant experiences (and there are so many), there did seem some smaller outfits with higher ratings for fun and compassionate experiences. Initially I had signed us up for a jungle sanctuary experience with elephants — but the 6:30 AM pick up and 2 PM drop off times, actual mud bath with elephants (bring a change a clothes!) and photos of bikini clad backpackers, made me think this was not the experience for 4 year old C and me. Mae Sa too had been where I had had my first such elephant experience nearly 21 years before. There we first watched elephants enjoying a bath in the river. This was followed by a short show with several elephants kicking a giant soccer ball and then painting pictures. C and I then took a short 15 minute trek on an elephant. We went in search of the baby elephant nursery with bananas and sugar cane in hand but ended up handing over the foodstuffs to two other friendly pachyderms. We were back in Chiang Mai just after noon in time to have lunch with JK2 and Little JK.

The evening of November 14 was the Loi Krathong and Yi Peng festival – a celebration of lights. Once celebrated separately, the two festivals, one with baskets of flowers, incense and candles (Loi Krathong) set afloat on rivers, and the other with white wax-coated paper hot air lanterns that soar into the sky, are now held together. As the 30 day ban on festivities ended the day before, the light festival could carry on. I booked for C and I to join the hotel celebration including a massive buffet dinner, several dance performances, and included a krathong for each guest to place on the river. I had imagined taking amazing photos of the Yi Peng lanterns but although I could see them in the sky we were far from the launch area. The dinner was too long for C although I luckily snagged us two seats at the table nearest the stage for the dances, which C really enjoyed. Once outside we had to wait in a very long line to launch our krathong as only two guests at a time could venture out on the hotel pontoon. It took over an hour for our turn and by that time C was extremely grump, and admittedly so was I. Still, although if I were to have the opportunity to experience the festival again I would probably choose another location to participate, I was nonetheless glad to have experienced it even if in such a small way.

Traditional dances and a lantern

On our last half day the sun shown brightly and the sky was clear. The view across the city was spectacular–the muddy brown Ping river, the cluster of low-rise homes and businesses, spreading to the base of Doi Suthep, and the sacred temple of Wat Phra That visible on the mountain’s slope. We both had contracted colds. The tropical warm weather and cleaner skies not something our bodies were ready to handle. I wanted to stay longer but it was time to return to Shanghai.

September 28, 2016 by trs

Sydney Getaway

Kites of all kinds, Bondi Beach. Look at that blue sky! No need for an air quality monitor here.

After months (it felt like years) since my previous vacation, through the hard slog of a busy Shanghai visa summer, then into a strange low visa-demand month that was challenging nonetheless with the whole “half the staff is gone for 1-3 weeks in Hangzhou to support the G-20” thing, I was so ready for a vacation. I would especially need it as my trip was sandwiched between the summer/G-20 season and my first foray into mid-level bidding, which is State Department speak for “virtual cage fighting for your next job.”

So off to Oz we went with stops in Sydney and the Blue Mountains.

We flew Shanghai to Singapore and then overnight to Sydney. (I love that my four year old asks before we travel how many planes we will take.) My friend K and her family picked us up at the airport — K used to work at the US Consulate in Shanghai as a locally-employed staff (a local hire) but she relocated to Sydney with her husband’s job and now she works for the US Consulate in Sydney — and then whisked us off to Bondi Beach for the annual kite flying festival. It did not have nearly the number of kites we expected and K’s husband could not find a parking space so he just drove around and around the area until we had our fill of beach and kites, but to be honest I didn’t care because it was just great to catch up with K, and her son KZ and C, who are the exact same age, really bonded. After Bondi we headed for a quick lunch on our way to the wonderful Featherdale Wildlife Park in the northwest suburbs of Sydney. The wildlife center is all about native Australian birds and animals, so it is a great place to see cockatoos, kookaburas, emus, cassowaries, koalas, kangaroos, wallabies, dingoes, quokkas, echidnas, Tasmanian devils and the like. KZ and C pet a koala — one of the few places where you can do so complimentary with your entrance ticket — and some wallabies. We finished up with ice cream. Then we headed back to K’s house and while her husband prepared dinner K and I took a stroll in a nearby park while KZ and C zoomed around on a scooter and a bicycle. And while this might sound like your average day out with friends — meet up, have lunch, drive to a kid friendly place, dinner at home, and a walk in the park — I have not had a single day like that in Shanghai.

Only 45 minutes on the train and I get this look

The following morning, a Monday, K headed out early to work and her husband drove C and I to the nearby Blacktown train station to catch the 7:57 am train to Katoomba. Initially my plan had been more complicated and involved renting a car. But the logistics and cost and dragging C’s car-to-booster-conversion seat for a short drive to and from Katoomba was outweighed by the simplicity of taking the train. Me–I was incredibly impressed with myself for packing one large backpack I could put on my back, a smaller backpack I could wear on my chest, thereby leaving my hands free to push C in the stroller. I felt I was almost, sort of, kinda, not really, really, but as close as I have been in awhile, close to my old backpacker self. C was less impressed. For some reason she found the idea of a relaxing 1 hour 22 minute ride on the train seemed incredibly boring. In true 4 year old style she asked at every station if that was our station. I only had to endure her asking 16 times before on it finally coming true. But she is 4 and she would have asked every five minutes if we were there yet had I been driving.

Great location, historic charm: the Carrington

We arrived at 9:22 am and headed straight for our hotel, the historic Carrington located just half a block from the Katoomba train station. The restored historic hotel is the oldest hotel in town having opened in 1883. I opted for us to stay in the “traditional rooms,” which are billed as “budget” accommodation that channels the original rooms of the hotel, i.e. they share bathrooms down the hall as the hotel would have had prior to 1927. Again, to me it was a tip to my backpacking/hosteling days and I was curious as to how C would take to it. Her assessment at the end of our stay: “I liked the room, I liked the bed, I liked the TV, but I did not like the bathrooms outside.”

It was a gorgeous day. It was warm (in the upper 70s), the sky was a brilliant blue. There was no time to dawdle. We were at the hotel WAY too early to check in. I left our bags with the front desk and whisked C in the stroller off to see the sights. I decided to walk from the hotel to Echo Point, the location to see the Three Sisters, the three iconic pillar rock formations that are the most recognizable symbol of the Blue Mountains. I had hoped the walk to Echo Point would be interesting, but it was not. We simply walked down a sidewalk that started in the commercial center of Katoomba and passed through a nondescript residential neighborhood. There were no views until the end when suddenly you find yourself at Echo Point 30 minutes later. And here the Jamison Valley opens before you. It is the Grand Canyon of Australia and it is awesome. C agreed that it was worth the trip only because I gave her some ice cream. Whatever. (I want to be upfront about travel with a four year old; C is a very good traveler but she is four. Ice cream ranks higher than amazing natural wonders right now).

The Three Sisters and Jamison Valley view

We were beat though. We had flown through the night to arrive in Australia. Been whisked around on a wonderful whirlwind first day right from the airport. Then we woke up very early for the train to the Blue Mountains. Despite the stunning views and great weather we needed lunch and a rest. We lunched at Echo Point watching a kookabura sitting in an old gum tree (get it?) and then road the hop on hop off bus back to the first stop, across from the hotel. We bought fruit and sandwich fixings from the local grocery store and were in for the night. (I want to be upfront about travel with a tired thirty, ok forty-something, mom with a young child. Sometimes a nap ranks higher than natural wonders.)

Are you sure there is a contraption of any kind on those cables? The Skyway disappears into the fog…

The following day I was kicking myself. It was cooler. The fog was thick. Sigh. This is the day we would go to Scenic World, a privately run wonderland of activities in the Blue Mountains. The activities include riding the steepest incline railway in the world, riding the steepest aerial cable car in the Southern Hemisphere, ride the skyway tram that crosses a chasm 270 meters above the valley floor, and enjoying various walks on elevated boardwalks through the forest. I was not sure how great it would be in thick fog. It is called scenic world, but it might be a bit hard to see… At AUS$70 for the two of us it seemed to be a bit pricey to look at the inside of a cloud. The upside is the fog had no affect whatsoever on the thrilling ride on the scenic railway. You whizz down what seems a near vertical track, you pass through a tunnel, and then some trees. C and I screamed. Then C laughed while I continued to scream. At the bottom of the railway we enjoyed a 30 minute walk through the forest with stops to ride the bronze statue of a pony in front of an old mine, swung on a tree limb outside an old minters cabin, and just enjoyed the fresh air. With the fog we had almost no wait for the cable car back up. And while the Skyway is supposed to afford riders incredible views, the fog gave the ride an otherworldly feel.

We had spent several hours at Scenic World and then an hour in the town of Leura before once again calling it a day. With most sightseeing buses stopping at 5 and the sun beginning to set around 5:30 PM, this is not as crazy as it sounds.

I could have put a normal beautiful day at Scenic World photo but while there I accidentally discovered my camera has this awesome setting.

The weather for Wednesday, our last day in the Blue Mountains, was supposed to be pretty bad — rainy all day. Imagine my surprise when we woke up to blue skies! I made the decision to head back to Scenic World. Imagine my surprise and sense of wonder when at the ticket counter the cashier let us in for free! He had asked, “Have you ever been to Scenic World before?” and I had answered “Yes! We were here yesterday but we could see very little with the fog so I thought we would come back. My daughter loved the railway and cannot stop talking about riding it again. Here is a picture I took of the fog around the Skyway. Isn’t it great?” He told me he would give me a discount, but when I handed him my credit card he declined it and told us to have a great time. Customer service is not dead.

This trail is rated perfect for 4 year olds by gift store employees

We rode the railway twice more (once down and once up) at C’s request. Then I decided we would ride the Skyway one-way with the stroller and walk along the Prince Henry Cliff Walk to Echo Point. It was only 30 minutes and a woman in the Scenic World gift shop assured me it was stroller friendly. She must have never, ever, ever been anywhere near that cliff walk because it was not stroller friendly in any possible interpretation unless you mean carrying your stroller the entire time as you fumble along several hundred dirt steps while praying your adventurous preschooler does not walk off the edge of the trail. My favorite part was the 9 or 10 rung metal step ladder affixed to a rock in the middle of the trail. Super kid friendly (not). But we survived the walk and luckily arrived at Echo Point before the skies darkened and poured.

The following day we took the train from Katoomba back to Sydney. As C found the 1 hour and 22 minute ride up boring she was even less impressed with the 2 hour trip to Sydney Central. And even more disgruntled to learn that we would transfer trains to ride to Circular Quay where we would find our hotel. But once again I was massively astonished at my travel-with-small-child prowess. We checked into our hotel located in a historic building in “the Rocks,” the location of the oldest European settlement of Sydney and headed off to Darling Harbour. There we got more animal time in at both the Sea Life Sydney Aquarium and the Wild Life Sydney Zoo. At the latter C pet a snake, got up close and personal with a sugar glider, and rubbed the belly of a spotted quoll. All fine and well except she noted I had yet to produce a platypus.

C feeds a giraffe. This is NOT the AUS$29.95 professional photo. That one, which makes me look like the Hulk in blue and is taken from an angle that looks directly up my nose, will never be seen online. Ever.

What I did produce were partial views of the Sydney Opera House from our hotel room. This is what we were here in Sydney to see. The Opera House (which of course is featured in the Disney movie Finding Nemo), kangaroos, koalas, and the duck-billed platypus. I was beginning to fulfill my promises. Our second day in Sydney we rode the ferry across to the Taronga Zoo where I could at long last produce a platypus and make good on the promise to have C feed a carrot to a giraffe. It only cost me AUS$29.95 for the privilege though we got to take home one of the worst “professional” photos I have ever paid money for proving C and I were near a giraffe with vegetables. C loves it though and that is what matters. The highlight of the zoo though was the hour we spent on the kids playground adjacent the lemur enclosure where C made fast friends with Sarah, an equally adventurous and outgoing Australian-Korean girl.

We also made a trip to the Sydney Tower Eye for views of the city just before sunset. It sounded nice and I already had tickets given I bought a 4-sites-in-one ticket that included the tower, but the views, while nice, are not as great as one might suppose. The two most iconic structures — the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge — are obscured by large and unimpressive buildings. I also had to contend with C’s deep displeasure at visiting the tower. If I have not mentioned it before, she is not yet into taking in the views. Not even “look mommy has already taken you to four animal venues and now it is time for something mommy wants to see” swayed her. Luckily she fell asleep in the stroller and I enjoyed the views in peace. And the next day I took her to Manly Beach to our fifth and final animal adventure, the Manly Sea Life Sanctuary. There she had her face painted and balance was restored to her world.

Yes, I arranged our trip to Sydney at this time of year so I could run across the bridge (on a night stroll across the street from our hotel)

Then of course on Sunday morning, if you have been following my adventures with any sort of regularity you may have guessed it — I participated in a run. Originally I had signed up for the Sydney Running Festival half marathon, but a last training run a week before departure made it very clear a half was probably a bad idea. Luckily there was still time to contact organizers and downgrade to the 9K Bridge Run. I just wanted to be able to run across the Sydney Harbour Bridge with a few thousand strangers. The “flat and fast” course was neither flat nor fast and seemed to me to be much longer than 9K, but I finished. And before the rain. Despite rain predicted for most days of our vacation, only the one day was blustery and rainy with both the wind and rain holding off til the end of the running events. We celebrated with lunch and a walk at Darling Harbour with K and her family.

The day after the run was another beautiful, glorious day. Unfortunately it was our last (half) day in Australia. We strolled along Circular Quay to the Opera House and through the beautiful Royal Botanical Gardens (it is a wonder that such prime Sydney real estate is set aside for a large, public park). I did not want to leave. Although I usually find 9 days away is very restorative, this time I still felt it was just too short. But it was time to return to Shanghai and get ready for bidding on my next assignment.

August 28, 2016 by trs

A Stroll down the Street of Eternal Happiness

The Street of Eternal Happiness in the former French Concession of Shanghai

One of my most constant activities in Shanghai, outside of spending a lot of time in the gym poorly training myself for middling performances in random half marathons, is my book club. This is no ordinary book club. Besides getting me to read at least one book a month – an astounding feat for this tired Foreign Service single mom – it is also a dinner club. As we meet at 6 PM on the third or last Thursday a month, dinner is part of the equation. So not only do they get me to read, but they also get me to cook. For those who know me, the latter is the much more impressive achievement.

Our book for this September is Street of Eternal Happiness: Big City Dreams Along a Shanghai Road by Rob Schmitz, an award winning journalist based in Shanghai. The book is about the lives of several people and families along Changle Lu, the beautifully named Street of Eternal Happiness, where the author lives in Shanghai. This post is not about the book, but rather my own walk down the street just yesterday.

A few weeks ago my four year old daughter and I had to travel to the Consulate Office Building (COB), the main compound of the US Consulate in Shanghai, so we could have our vaccinations updated. Although I work for the Consulate, I do not work in the COB; the visa section is located on the eighth floor of the Westgate Mall. My daughter and I took a shuttle from our residence, where many Consulate families live, to the COB to have our appointments with the Consulate clinic. Along the way, the shuttle bus turned on to Changle Lu, and I realized how very close the road is in relation to where I live and I resolved one day soon for C and I to take a walk along the 2 mile slice of Shanghai life–to bring the book club book literally to life.

We started off at No. 274 Urumuqi Road, just a block and a half south of where Changle Lu intersects. This is the location of the Avocado Lady, a Shanghai institution. What appears to be a small double-wide mom and pop grocery operation is the shopping destination for expats in search of fresh produce with a smile along with some rather hard to find exports from home. The Avocado Lady has been recognized for promoting Mexican avocados and used to sport a plaque from the Mexican Consulate in front of the store. Two weeks ago when C and I passed by the plaque was there, but yesterday the owners informed me that it had fallen. This did not deter the customers; on a Saturday afternoon the shop was hopping.

“Build core values with one heart, and realize the great Chinese dream with one mind.” One of the many posters along the wall on Urumuqi Road.

A half a block and across the street up from the Avocado Lady one can find the wall that surrounds the demolished lot that was once Maggie Lane. I have passed by this wall many times as I walked back from the COB to my residence. I liked the posters. There used to be one with a cat on it, I think also one with a carp. I never thought of the significance of the posters until I read the book. These posters sporting optimistic slogans about achieving civilization, progress and happiness while realizing the dreams of a nation, cover an ugly wall around an empty lot where once stood Shikumen homes built in the 1930s. Although the at times vicious demolition began in late 2004, the area has still yet to be developed. Progress. At a standstill.

We headed on to Changle Lu and it did not take long until we fund another of the addresses: CK’s boutique restaurant 2nd Floor Your Sandwich, now called 2nd Floor Natural Flavor Cafe Bistro & Exhibition. Not knowing what was on the menu at at 2nd Floor or the energy level of C, I opted to lunch at home before we headed out. I wish we had waited to lunch at 2nd Floor. The wrought iron spiral staircase is tricky for a 4 year old and the stroller was just a no go (I left it parked behind the blackboard sign in the nook in front of the stairs). Yet upstairs the cafe is a comfy, crowded well-lit room with lots of windows. The ceiling of half the cafe is windows, like a greenhouse. The walls are covered in artwork and different sized shelves with knick-knacks, old cameras, books, and plants. It is chic and eclectic, and the menu, with pancakes and burgers, pumpkin soup and buffalo mozzarella with arugula salad, looked inviting. They were doing a brisk business for Saturday lunch. I would have loved to sit down for tea and dessert but C was having none of it. She was complaining loudly about having to climb the stairs and wanting to continue the walk, so I gave up and we left. I will go back some day.

Further down the road, on one side of the street large, imposing grey walls or brick and iron fences with thick brush blocked the views of former French Concession mansions, on the other side small mom and pop shops with apartments on the upper level, there between the homes an alleyway opens up with a sign indicating just inside, just follow the signs, one will find the Chinese Printed Blue Nankeen Exhibition Hall. As I was here to check out Changle Lu and all it had to offer, this invitation was too much to pass up. I pushed the stroller down a broad alley with narrow passages on either side leading to both front and back doors of small apartments. Up above clothing hung out to dry from make-shift clothing lines. At the end of the alley, signs instructed us to go over a gate, heading first to the right and then to the left down a very narrow passageway about as wide as two strollers. Again to the left, it opened to a courtyard and there you find the museum and shop of hand painted blue and white cotton cloth. The shop beautifully displayed the cloth in clothing, framed pictures, fabric toys, table cloths and more, on dark wood shelves and walls. I bought a small Nankeen blue cloth elephant to go with my cloth elephant collection (one from Thailand, Laos, and Indonesia). Just outside the shop C caught sight of what appeared to be a mongoose running through the courtyard. I imagine it is more likely a pet ferret that got away. Nonetheless it added to our adventure down Changle Lu.

We came to a small toy store. This is what C had been waiting for — she had seen the shop from the windows of our shuttle bus on the way to the COB weeks before. Her eagle eyes had spotted the My Little Ponies in the window as our bus sped by at 25 miles per hour. And finally here we were in front of the little place. Inside there was no place to move – both the proprietors, a husband and wife, sat in chairs watching a television placed on top of a pile of stock. There was no place for the stroller inside, there was barely room for C and I to stand. C did not care, as I am sure most children would not, because she was within touching distance of all the merchandise. Most of the toys were no longer even in their boxes, but that too only seemed to add to the appeal. To pick out her new toy for the day, C had to stand outside and make her choice through the front window display. As we stood outside with our new purchase, C drew a small crowd as she chattered away happily in a mix of Chinese and English about all the other toys that she also wished we were buying.

Old bicycles in a Changle Lu alley

A glimpse behind the gates at a swank home

It seemed strange that we would draw any attention as I had noticed quite a few foreigners on the road throughout our walk. Even as we loitered in the cramped toy store, a very pregnant young foreign woman popped in to buy a 300 RMB China mobile phone card. (Of course the toy shop would also be in the business of selling phone cards.) I had begun to feel the foreigner to Chinese ratio was higher here on Changle Lu than it was on my own block, the very swank Nanjing Xi Lu. Perhaps that is not surprising because the luxury brand name stores around my home are more likely to draw wealthy Chinese than hip but frugal foreigners. I felt more at home on Changle Lu, more at ease than I do on Nanjing Xi Lu, where I walk to work each day passing stores like Christian Louboutin, Ferragamo, Bvlgari, and Louis Vuitton. The walk though was eye-opening in other ways. I thought about how small our world, the one C and I occupy, is in Shanghai. Most days I walk only the 3 1/2 blocks to work and return and C stays in an even smaller radius, to the playground, pool, Kids’ Club, preschool, and supermarket, all within our complex. We go out frequently enough to museums and other sights around town, but it is rare we walk off the beaten path, just to walk. We did so more when we first arrived, but I became caught up in work and my bucket list, and C with her swimming, dance, birthday parties and school (again all within the complex) and we wander less and less. The Shanghai we know is quite different from that others know – and were we to come back ten years from now, even if the city miraculously remained the same as it is now, it would be a different place to us.

The inviting kids corner. (Yes, I do see the no photo sign though I swear I did not see it when I took the picture)

We passed the corner of the Street of Eternal Happiness and Rich Man’s Road, where the restaurant Chicken & Egg was doing a roaring business of mostly foreigners in their outdoor seating. On we went, passing slick office buildings, upscale and downscale clothing and shoe stores, Chinese fried food stalls alongside trendy foreign food establishments from Thai to Mexican to Italian. We came to a bookstore, and I had to go in. Imagine my surprise to find a wonderful traditional English language book seller with a small cafe. There were sections around the store; you could determine the travel book section, the foreign language learning section, the Children’s book section despite the lack of signage, but there were also just stacks of books on tables, on shelves of different heights, and in piles making a pathway just wide enough to carefully maneuver a stroller, but just. It is the kind of place where those who love books could get lost for hours and leave carrying a heavy bag of unexpected finds. I felt I had not been in such a store for ages and ages, and it is probably true. If it were not for my book club getting me to read, I would be hard pressed to get through a book a month. This from someone who devoured 100 books in more than one summer. Also, these days most of my books are purchased on Amazon and within minutes transferred to my Kindle. It is just not the same. We parked the stroller and C immersed herself amongst the shelves. She delighted in the kids’ section though did have to run downstairs to complain to management, in Chinese, that the area with the toys trapped under a glass floor was “difficult” for children. She actually pulled an amused manager upstairs to point this folly out.

We continued on. Another block brought an unexpected sight. The stores on the one side of the street seemed on the seedy side, with sex shops and risque lingerie stores, whose window displays reminiscent of Amsterdam’s red light district, on an upper level and small cafes and restaurants and other shops on lower levels, just a few steps down. That one small section reminded me of a street in Amsterdam, U street in Washington DC and a part of Orchard Road, Singapore all at the same time. we passed a small Mexican deli closed for the nuptials of the owner. I not only loved the sign the owner posted but also that the small shop, like so many small business owners, would close for such a celebration because they do not rely on an army of employees. No doubt it is a tough job running your own small business, but there was just something so joyous and infectious in the simple sign.

C hides in the stroller outside the flower shop

We ended our walk at the small flower shop at the corner of Changle Lu and Chengdu Nan Lu, featured in the book. I was encouraged to see two women sitting out front in deck chairs fanning themselves in the heat and gossiping, though neither it turned out was Ms. Zhao the owner. The shop, like so many others, was also too small for the stroller so C waited outside while Ms. Zhao’s eldest son made me a bouquet of roses that C had picked out. While C fended of pinches and coos from curious older Chinese, the elder son told me his mother was back in her hometown, but would return the following day. Shandong? I asked, because I had read the book and knew the location of her hometown. He did not seem surprised in the slightest that I asked about his mother or knew her travel was likely to Shandong. I suddenly felt shy and intrusive – almost as if I were talking to a celebrity. I had after all read about him and his mother’s shop in a book. I thanked him for the nice arrangement of the flowers, paid, and then we turned around and headed back home, about a dozen blocks away. Well worth the stroll on a summer Saturday afternoon in Shanghai.

August 21, 2016 by trs

Two Weekends on the Outskirts of Shanghai

August is hot in Shanghai. And like most places I have been there seem to be no holidays the whole long, hot month.

Shanghai municipality map This August is expected to be busier than last because of the G-20 Summit being held in Hangzhou, just an hour outside of Shanghai and within the Shanghai Consulate region. Though the G-20 leaders meeting will be held in early September, advance teams and preparation begins weeks beforehand and a large number of staff from the Shanghai Consulate have key roles. As a single mom of a young child I opted not to put my name forward to TDY (be sent temporary duty) to Hangzhou for potentially weeks, and instead volunteered to take on additional roles in Shanghai. Before the madness would begin I wanted to spend two long weekends away with my daughter. As I did not want to travel far I opted for two staycations, of sorts. We would stay at hotels within Shanghai municipality (though outside the city proper) for some quality mom and daughter time, where I could also tick a few things off my Shanghai bucket list. Thanks to a G-20 clean up campaign, we experienced days with some of the lowest AQI (air quality index) since we arrived, with the most startling blue skies I have ever seen in Shanghai.

Weekend One: Sheshan

The Sofitel Sheshan swimming pool – C liked the hotel so much she asked if we could move there for 5 years

After lunch on Friday, August 12 we departed for Sheshan via metro. C was not all that happy as she has a generally low opinion of traveling on the Shanghai subway. Her preference is for taxis. But with an hour ride ahead of us from Jing’An Station to Sheshan Station (with one change of lines), the 5 RMB metro fare (C rides free as all children under 1.4 meters tall do) was more attractive than the 150+ RMB taxi fare. I thought it might take awhile too to find a taxi driver willing to make the one hour journey. So it was worth it to me to drag C, the stroller, my bag, and our suitcase (full of enough toys and books for at least a week) the three blocks to the nearest subway station and through the transfer. Thankfully an hour later I still had not regretted it.

View of Sheshan with the basilica and observatory clear against the startling blue sky

We booked at the Sofitel Hotel Sheshan Oriental. The plan was to arrive around 2 pm, check-in, and then head out to one of the nearby sights. I should know by now that traveling with C never means we “just” check-in and we head out “immediately.” It is almost laughable how much I persist in this fantasy. C is a true traveler and hotel connoisseur; she likes to check-in and then check out the hotel. We were wooed by our large corner suite room, the make-your-own-ice-cream-bar bar in the lobby (50 RMB but the front desk clerk gave me coupons for two free ones just because I asked about the ice cream stand), and the two swimming pools – one for kids and one for families. In the evening after dinner, we went for a walk around the extensive grounds, stopping also at the two kids rooms — one an arcade of sorts and the other with ball pit and slides.

For day two I was determined to get some bucket list sightseeing done, so we were off to Sheshan – or She Hill (pronounced like “shuh”), which is the highest point in Shanghai. How high seems to be the subject of much debate as I found 97, 99, and 100 meters online, but since most of Shanghai is quite flat, this hill stands out regardless how high it may be.

C gets cheeky before we begin our climb

The hill is located in the Sheshan National Forest Park. I find Shanghai to be a fairly leafy city; even in the heart of the concrete jungle of downtown, there are trees on every street and given my view from my 19th floor apartment, many high rises with rooftop gardens. Still I was unprepared for the amount of greenery I found at Sheshan. Entrance to the park is free, one only has to bring some energy to climb. Ninety-seven to 100 meters may not sound like much, but if you are braving it with a 4 year old and a stroller (that you have to carry half the time and push up inclines the other half) in 95 degree weather with 80% humidity, then it does feel like the mountain the Shanghaiese sometimes jokingly call it.

I chose the wooden walkway vice the “difficult path” on the map located near the pagoda at the top of a steep flight of stairs from the parking area. The boardwalk-like pathway was very nice. Thick bamboo forest could be seen on one side of the hill. I had a hard time believing we were still in Shanghai. After some time – I lost track – we arrived at another rest area from where we could choose to visit the observatory or the basilica. I could tell you we made it to the top without complaints, but I would be lying. It was hot and C may have said a few times that she did not want to walk, did not want to see “Snake Hill” (“she” can mean snake, but it is not the character used for Sheshan), and that the whole thing was “boring.” A second Chinese popsicle might have helped us to get up the extra bit.

The view from Sheshan including the hill with pagoda and the conservatory at Chenshan Botanical Garden

At the top we visited the small but interesting Shanghai Astronomical Museum and the pretty Sheshan basilica. The original observatory was built in 1900 by French missionaries and was one of the first modern observatories in China. The basilica is purportedly “the largest cathedral in the Far East,” and a church has been on the site since 1863. C seemed to rally for both the sites but I did reward her for her cooperation with a delicious lunch and more pool time once back at the hotel.

On the last morning I again had a plan – to arrive at the Chenshan Botanical Garden at 9 am, right when it opened. We made it by 10. The gardens, at 207 hectares or 511 acres or 2 million square meters (whichever measurement makes the most sense to you), is one of the largest botanical gardens in the world and Shanghai’s largest green space. Thank goodness I had a stroller and I sprang for the 10 RMB sightseeing bus. We stopped first at the Children’s Garden, which of course is more a giant playground than a garden. But it being the first weekend in August, at 10-something in the morning, it was already well over 80 degrees and climbing. The playground had almost zero cover. C played for about 10 minutes as I slowly melted into a puddle. I found a double chair swing in the shade but I was antsy to get moving. I spotted what appeared to be swans and used them to distract C, and we were off.

The floating bridge in the old quarry

Bridge to treehouse island

Inside the greenhouse

We visited the tree house island, where the water fowl were hanging out, and then headed over to the rose garden via the topiary garden and a long way around the western edge of West Lake. The roses were naturally pretty and the perfume from the flowers extremely fragrant, but with no cover, the flowers and me were wilting. C seemed happy enough though so we pressed on. But as we walked (and C rode) I could feel my enthusiasm for the gardens diminishing. It was too hot. I planned on one last stop – the quarry garden (listed on the brochure as a “recommended attraction” during the summer months) – and then a ride on the shuttle bus back to the visitor’s center. But once inside the abandoned quarry, now a large artificial lake with a floating walkway, complete with dual waterfalls cascading down from the top of Chenshan hill, I found my second wind. The floating bridge led to a tunnel through the rock leading us from the Quarry Garden to the Rock Garden. We walked on, until we found ourselves at the conservatory, a 12000 square meter greenhouse, the largest in Asia.

After about 45 minutes in the greenhouses we were on the shuttle back to the Visitor’s Center. We had survived three hours in the gardens, but now I was feeling concerned about getting back to the hotel and home. The hotel had arranged an Uber driver for us to the garden, but at drop off it was clear this was not a location where taxis frequented. It seemed we might have to wait for the bus that would take us to the Sheshan metro station from where we could catch a taxi back to the hotel to collect our belongings and then head home. But as we crossed the vast parking and entrance area I spotted a taxi across the road, idling. I began to sprint, pushing the stroller with an energy I was sure I had sweated away hours before. We secured the taxi, one of the nice new caravan taxis with fully functioning A/C and no stench of stale cigarette smoke, back to the hotel. Along the way, C fell asleep, hard. I asked the driver if he was up to driving us all the way back to our home downtown with just a quick stop at the hotel to grab out bags. He agreed much to my relief.

Weekend Two: Chongming Island

The bridge linking Shanghai with Chongming island

Depending on whether or not you count Taiwan, Chongming is either the second or third largest island of China. It is 1,267 square kilometers (489 square miles) with a population around 700,000 people. Given that Shanghai total, the municipality including Chongming, has a population of 24 million, that means that the island makes up about a seventh of the total land area but has only 3% of the population. High rises are few – though there appears to be a building boom on the island – and for now nature is the primary thing to see.

I had read about the Hyatt Regency Chongming in a Shanghai family magazine aimed at expats. The island and the hotel sounded so nice I quickly added it to my bucket list and determined it would be my destination for my second weekend staycation.

The concierge at the Portman Ritz Carlton, part of our apartment complex, arranged an Uber for us to the hotel. Even with an Uber it cost us 220 RMB for the hour plus ride including tolls. Once we hit the tunnel to Changxing Island (in-between Shanghai proper and Chongming) it already felt like we were very far from the city.

A room fit for my princess

I knew better this time than to make some big plans after our arrival. There is less to do on the island than in Sheshan and this weekend was going to be more about relaxing. Once again I shelled out the extra dough for an upgraded room that would include breakfast, a better room, and club access including “happy hour,” where we could fill up on a full dinner meal. Still there was a bit of a mix-up with the room, but the helpful hotel staff arranged for us to have a further upgrade for one night to one of the kids’ character rooms. C chose a Frozen-inspired room (though she was also quite taken with the Captain America room too). The rest of the day was devoted to walking (ok, running) through the hotel’s sunlight wooden corridors and the extensive grounds, rocking in the comfy swing on our balcony listening to bird song, saying hello to dogs (it is a very dog friendly hotel, with specially designed rooms with enclosed patios for those who bring their furry companions), and swimming at the pool.

The next day my bubble was burst. My plan was to rent one of the “mommy and me” bicycles available at the hotel for a nice bike ride to the Dongtan Nature Reserve. When I explained my plan to the woman at the rental counter her draw dropped. “But,” she stammered, “it is really hot right now.” She had a point. It was hot as blazes outside, again forecast to climb into the mid-90s. But hey, I am fit and I wanted to ride the bicycle. “But,” she explains patiently, as if talking to a child, “the reserve is very far away.” The magazine I had read indicated the reserve was a “short trip from the hotel.” She told me that it was not, it was actually about 20 minutes away by car. She told me if I took a regular bicycle it would take me at least an hour, but with the mommy and me bicycle, it would take me about three because is is really sloooooooooow. Yeah, three hours one way on a weird bicycle in 90 degree heat did sound like a terrible idea. Scratch that.

C enjoys lounging

First time on a bicycle!

Meanwhile C had already decided she wanted nothing to do with a bicycle that had her just sitting the whole time. She had her eye on the children’s bikes with “stabilizers” (she watches a lot of Peppa Pig so does not even know the American term “training wheels”). I asked instead about Dongping National Forest Park, also claimed to be “close to the hotel” in my trusty magazine. The huge park is perfect for long walks and also apparently includes an area with horse rides, bumper carts, and other carnival type rides. The helpful concierge could barely keep from snorting her incredulity at the proximity I believed the park to be. She informed me it is AN HOUR taxi ride from the hotel. We might as well head back to Shanghai.

So C got to ride a bicycle for the very first time for nearly two hours in the sweltering heat. She was so happy I don’t think she noticed it was warm. (When we returned the bike though, a bellman gave me props for our long time outdoors because he told me he could barely stand 5 minutes outside. C and I are dedicated to “relaxing” at all costs.)

The Dongtan Nature Reserve Visitors Center

Part of the beautiful grounds

I was determined to see some of the natural sites on Chongming – or any site at all other than the hotel. After lunch and the heat of midday I again asked the concierge about a trip to Dongtan Nature Reserve, this time booking a taxi to pick us up. Because there is no dedicated taxi stand at the hotel (it isn’t near anything other than a new retirement apartment complex on the one side and a new Tuscan-style housing complex on the other), she had to call a taxi to come from Chenjia town about 10km away. And the meter starts from the taxi leaving the town, not picking us up. So our 20 minute ride to the Dongtan parking lot cost 80 RMB, about four times more than a similar ride would cost in Shanghai.

The nearly empty gravel parking lot at Dongtan and small ticket shack did not give me much confidence that this had been a good idea. At 2:30 in the afternoon it was still sweltering. Again, there was no cover to be seen and I had decided to not bring the stroller, probably a poor decision on my part. I shelled out an additional 10 RMB for the golf cart shuttle to take us from the parking lot to the furthest stop. At 60,000 acres, the wetland reserve, is no small feat to get around. Even had we brought the stroller there was simply no way for us to really get around to all the areas. Bicycles are for rent, but there are no “mommy and me” ones here. So I limited us to two areas – the far wetland marsh area where one can walk through the tall marsh grasses on a boardwalk and the area around the visitor’s center.

This cannot possibly be Shanghai anymore – boardwalk through the wetlands at Dongtan

Though the reserve is a migratory location for some 1 million birds representing nearly 300 species, we heard only a few and saw even less. Given it was 3 to 4 PM and around 1000 degrees outside, I think the birds had the right idea to lay low somewhere. Yet the sheer size of the reserve, its layout, its mission, and the incredible scenery under those G-20 blue skies, made sweating away a few pounds of water while occasionally carrying a disgruntled 4-year-old worth the effort.

The following day, having decided that Dongping Forest was not worth the two hour round trip for a 50 RMB 5 minute pony ride (which I was sure what we would end up doing), was just for lazing around the room, swinging on the balcony, and snuggling with C. I had planned to leave the hotel right after check out at noon, but I am glad I asked the concierge yet again about getting back to Shanghai. Turns out it is no simple matter if you do not have a car. Chongming taxis are local and only licensed for the island. Therefore in order to return to Shanghai, the concierge would have to call a Shanghai taxi to pick us up, for which we would incur a steep fee and at least a 90 minute wait. My other option was to hire a local taxi to come from Chenjia town to take us to the island bus station. We would have to wait 30 minutes for that taxi and pay at least 80 RMB. Then we would take a bus from the island to the Science and Technology Museum metro station in Pudong, then ride the metro seven stops to West Nanjing road, and then walk several blocks home. Weighing my two options I decided the latter offered the greatest amount of adventure.

As luck would have it, I struck up a conversation with a couple traveling with their 18 month old son whom I had helped direct to the swimming pool the night before. While I was in line for check-out, psyching myself up for our taxi-bus-subway-walk journey, the wife approached me and said they would be happy to drive us home. It turned out the couple, both fluent in English and German, having studied in Germany and worked for German companies in Shanghai, live only a 10 minute walk from our own apartment. They saved C and I from myself and my sense of “adventure” and we had a lovely trip home.

July 10, 2016 by trs

July 4th Mini Holiday

June was over. At last. It is the busiest season for the Shanghai Consulate visa section. And it had culminated with the Consulate’s July 4th event, our largest representational event of the year. An event I had once again volunteered to help organize.

About a month before I had reserved one night at the JW Marriott Changfeng Park even though its location is only 15 minutes away from my apartment. If I stay at home I find my weekends are often consumed with the little mundane things that capture one’s attention when you are at home. Grocery shopping. Meal preparation. Facebook checking. Watching meaningless shows on television (and I only have three English channels other than news channels so this can get pretty repetitive for me). I wanted to be “away.”

The view of Changfeng Park from the executive floor of the JW Marriott

On the morning of Sunday, July 3 my daughter and I headed downstairs for the taxi queue to head off on our adventure. The taxi driver appeared to have an interest in making a go at breaking the land speed record, zig-zagging through traffic on the elevated highway with a fervor and intensity best suited to the Indianapolis Speedway.

The Pudong aquarium might be the one everyone has heard of, but Changfeng has beluga whales.

But we made it to the hotel. I cannot say for sure if it was the taxi ride, the beautifully appointed lobby, the thrill of having a night away, or the helpful bellhop with the English name Buttery (I kid you not) that led to my agreeing to a $70 upgrade on top of an already $150 room, but I did. Probably it was the option letting me check in right away that appealed to me most. With the upgrade we secured a room on a higher floor with inclusive pricey breakfast in the executive lounge as well as snacks throughout the day. Worth every penny.

According to my plan though we had little time to dawdle. It was off to Changfeng Park right away. Because I wanted to take C to see the beluga whales. Some months ago I bought her a book on whales and she has been fascinated by the idea of white whales since. Watching Finding Dory recently only solidified her need to see them. Imagine my surprise while Googling one day to come across the Changfeng Ocean World. We had to go.

There was a show at noon. We arrived at the ticket line at 11:40. It seemed possible to make the show. There were only about 25 people in front of us. And yet at 12:30 we were still in line. How is that even possible? It could be that there was only ticket seller. But I think the real reason behind the wait were the line jumpers. There were a few people who were behind me in line who kept trying to move ahead of me, but I called them out and they edged back. However there were other groups of people who went straight to the front of the line and after a short conversation with the person second in line, handed over money for that person to buy their tickets. I saw one older woman mouth “you paidui” or “there is a line” as she motioned to all of us behind her and shook her head. At first I was buoyed that she would turn them down, but then she agreed to buy their tickets. Argh!

Which one of these kids does not belong?

So by 12:35 we had the tickets. I thought we could go in to see the aquarium first and then see the show. We entered and went through a small section with fish. It took about 5 minutes. It turned out the rest of the aquarium was in a separate building on the other side of the park. Also, although the next show began at 1:30, they would let people into the arena at 1:00 and at 12:45 a line was forming. So once again we got in line. Luckily we were able to snag a front row middle seat, right in front of the show tank. Unluckily we were now there 30 minutes before the show. More waiting. I was forced to buy a light-up beluga whale toy on a necklace. If you have kids and have ever had to wait for a show like this you know exactly why I had to do it.

The “show” started at 1:32. Well some very loud screaming into a microphone began at 1:32 as the emcee welcomed us all. Then six children were selected from the audience to participate in a quiz game that dragged on for 10 minutes. C was selected after one of the show’s organizers confirmed with me she could understand Chinese. Except the questions were rather complicated, aimed at upper elementary aged. Poor C was likely chosen because of her blonde curls than her chance at winning. The winner got to pet a seal. C was not the winner, but she and the other runner-ups did each get a plush sea animal.

The three belugas. My daughter named them Cupcake, Sarah, and Wonder Woman

So there was a short show with a seal. The winner of the kids quiz show and her mom got to pet a seal. The rest of us watched them pet the seal. Riveting.

And then six more kids were selected for another kids’ quiz. Ten more minutes we watched. Then the two winners of that quiz and their parents got to go in and touch the nose of a beluga whale. We all watched them touch them.

Then FINALLY it was time for us all to watch the beluga whales do their thing. They swam in formation. There were one or two jumps. They poked their heads out of the water and looked at us with their cute faces. My daughter was very happy and that made me happy.

Still when the whole show ended at 2:30 I wondered where the last 3 hours of my life had gone. That as a lot of time for 10 minutes of beluga watching. Part of me wanted to just go back to the hotel, get my things and go home. But there was more aquarium to see.

In my book an aquarium with information like this gets bonus points

Last year my daughter and I visited the Shanghai Ocean Aquarium in Pudong over the Chinese New Year holiday. There we fought the crowds to catch a glimpse of anything at every single display. The cacophony was deafening. After some 30 minutes of the noise and the chaos I just wanted to get out of there. The aquarium at Changfeng was busy; there were school groups, and yet you could still see everything. I was quite impressed with the information placards, in both English and Chinese. They had an impressive number of seahorses, one of my absolute favorite sea animal. Equally impressive were the signs about protecting sea life.

This was supposed to be a cool museum at one time

Then I wanted to shift into the mommy phase of this mini-vacay. It was time to head over to an adjacent park for a visit to the Shanghai Matchbox and Brand Museum. As we walked up to the building I saw what appeared to be a large amount of debris lining the sidewalks in front. Piles and piles of abandoned desks and tables and filing cabinets. And sure enough on the dusty front door was a sign indicating that the museum was closed. Strange. Just a month before I had found an online article about visiting the museum. This is not the first time I have gone to visit a a sightseeing spot in Shanghai only to find it closed, but it is disappointing nonetheless.

We had a great night at the hotel enjoying the cake and cheese desserts and beverages in the executive lounge and just being away.

On Monday morning we headed to the Parkside Plaza mall, right next door to the hotel. Here is where you can find the Shanghai Legoland Discovery Center, which just opened in April. They promised “2-3 hours of fun” and they were not kidding. I think it was three hours and one minute of fun when I called “time.”

This was my first time to any Legoland, amusement park or discovery center, so I do not have a comparison, but this place was not only fun but really cool. There were two rides, a play area with slides for toddlers and another for older kids, building areas, a car build and test drive space, an amazing miniature Shanghai built entirely of Legos (of course), a 15 minute 4D Lego movie (all in Chinese but after a few minutes even I was so into it I sort of forgot I could hardly understand the dialogue), a cafe, and more.

It was a great getaway and a good reminder that not only is Shanghai chock full of awesome things to see and do but also just a 1 1/2 days of fun and a night away from home can be enough to re-charge. Long live the mini vacay.

June 12, 2016 by trs

Shanghai Disneyland Trials

I have seen colleagues around the world be involved in some rather substantial events. From important election monitoring to Presidential or other high level visits, from attending major sporting or art events to standing in the room during key speeches of global significance.

At long last I am at post when something of major historical significance occurs: the opening of the world’s sixth Disney park!

We got the “golden” tickets

And not only am I here for the opening but I was able to be one of the few to experience the park before the official opening day on June 16, 2016. Okay “few” might be stretching the truth. The park opened in early May for a six week trial period. Though closed Mondays and Thursdays, each day the park welcomed somewhere between 10,000 and 30,000 people to experience the park to allow cast members and crew to practice and rehearse. So, that would mean approximately 600,000 people would visit the park even before opening day. By May 20 Fortune reported that one million Chinese had already made their way to Disney Town, the ticket-free Disney restaurant and shopping mecca next to the park. But still, for my daughter and I to be two of the lucky ones felt pretty darn awesome.

The shortest Main Street (called Mickey Avenue) and the largest castle

C and I visited the park not just once, but twice! Once we went as part of a group of tickets purchased through a special release to the US Consulate. We had a second chance for a visit because C has friends and those friends have parents who work for Disney.

I am not a Disney expert. I know some Disney experts and they could really provide you with a detailed treatise on the similarities and differences between the Disney parks. I have been making a valiant effort to become more of a Disney authority—Shanghai Disneyland is our fourth park in the past year. We have been to Disney in Orlando, Anaheim, Hong Kong, and now Shanghai—but I still have a long way to go. I can only tell you my impressions, share only what we experienced. And this was during the trial period so hard to say if it will remain the same when the park opens.

I have no personal experience with the TRON coaster, but it looks cool.

There are familiar rides at Shanghai Disneyland such as a carousel, Dumbo the Flying Elephant, the Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train, and Stitch Encounter. There are also brand new to Shanghai rides such as the TRON Lightcycle Power Run and the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. I have heard the last two are pretty spectacular but I can tell you absolutely nothing about them. I have never even been on the Mine Train. I am a single mom of a four year old girl. We ride a lot of Dumbo and Pooh. We meet a lot of Princesses. And that is totally okay. That is one of the great things about Disney. We can enjoy it now when my daughter is 4 and we can enjoy it again as she grows older.

The Fantasia Carousel

Hunny Pots instead of Mad Tea Party

We loved the Fantasia inspired carousel. The Hunny Pot Spin, the Shanghai version of the Mad Tea Party spinning cups, was also a huge hit. I enjoyed the Voyage to the Crystal Grotto boat ride, mostly because it is probably the longest lasting ride and if you have a sleepy or sleeping child it can provide the most break time for the parent. I expect C would have enjoyed the displays from Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, Mulan and more but I certainly was not going to wake her. After holding a snoozing C for 20 minutes in line I was grateful for the ten minutes or so I actually got to sit down. C loved Shipwreck Shore in the Treasure Cove area. It is an interactive pirate boat activity area with water guns, ropes that lift pirate treasure or a shark from the water, and barrels that shoot water out on unsuspecting guests. It was really the only thing for a single mom and a four year old to do in Treasure Cove. We also had fun on the Buzz Lightyear Planet Rescue. It is a fun ride that allows two passengers to each shoot his or her own laser gun and rack up points video game style. Well, to be honest C spent the first minute or so hiding under the dash of our rocket ship so although she came around she could never quite catch up to me and lost something like 240,000 points to 3,200. Still I told her I could never have defeated Zurg without her. Then she wanted to ride again. (I said no because the line was a slow moving 50 minutes at least)

A very cool Mulan in the parade

Merida impresses in the Fairytale Fanfare

I also really liked both the parade and the Golden Fairytale Fanfare, which is a musical show in front of the Enchanted Storybook Castle featuring Snow White, Anna and Elsa, Aladdin and Jasmine, Ariel, and Merida. The downsides were that like any Disney parade route you need to get in place early, so I could only see what I could make out over the heads of the five people deep Chinese crowd (though C got a seat on the ground in front with other kids) and for the Fanfare the “host” speaks all in Chinese and it is standing room only. Although there are 5 or 6 rows they are flat rather than rising. So if you are in the back rows you have no height advantage facing the stage over those in the first rows. We stood in the very front of the second row and still had a limited view. (I put C on my shoulders though so she could see unobstructed) I also really liked the Alice in Wonderland Maze. The “Once Upon a Time” Adventure in the castle though felt like a waste of time. Character meetings with Baymax, Stitch, Rapunzel and Belle made up for that though. You can even meet Captain America, Spiderman, and Darth Vader in this park.

If you think about it, this is the only park in the world where the majority of international visitors will require a visa to visit. Of course international visitors will still come. And of course there are a lot of foreigners who live in China who will come. But the majority of visitors to this Magic Kingdom will be citizens of the Middle Kingdom. And the park has been designed with the locals in mind.

For example, probably 75% of the toilets in the park are the squatting kind. You read that right. And for the Chinese that is not a problem. And look, I have been around Asia long enough that it is not a problem for me. I would just prefer not to use a squatting toilet if I have the option. I am getting a bit old to squat. Seriously, my knees are just not as forgiving as they used to be. Also my daughter is not a fan of the squatty potty as she once fell in. That was not a fun day for me either. So I sought out the western sitting commodes and unfortunately on more than one I found footprints. Probably where children—at least I hope it was children—tried to stand on the seat.

Picky Western eaters, you will not starve!

Then there is the food. If you are a fan of Chinese food or the Chinese version of Western food, then this is the park for you! Rice bowls, noodle bowls, steamed buns, dim sum, Mongolian beef, and grilled squid skewers are all available in the park. If you want a Mickey shaped pizza that is most certainly not Chicago or New York style, topped with seafood and sweet soy sauce then you have come to the right place. None of these float my boat. If you want a gigantic bin of popcorn then be prepared for the super sweet kind. It smells divine but if you like salty and buttered you are out of luck. Western food is not out completely though. You can find German style bratwurst, Australian-style meat pies, and gigantic turkey legs in the park. The Stargazer Grill in Tomorrowland also serves up some nice hamburgers, hotdogs, chicken fingers, fries and salads. In Disney Town you can find a Wolfgang Puck eatery, Starbucks, a California sushi joint, Thai food, BreadTalk, and Asia’s first Cheesecake Factory.

This is joy!

There are a few downsides…

The FastPass system. It kinda sucks. When we went to Disneyworld in Orlando, each single day ticket included three FastPass selections that can be chosen as much as 30 days before arrival at the park. If you wanted to change the ride or the time, you just go online. In other parks there are FastPass machines. Shanghai Disneyland also has the machines but you must visit the Guest Services kiosk in the section of the park where your FastPass eligible ride is located. The line to use the machines was in many circumstances as long as or longer than waiting in line for the attraction itself. I much prefer the Disneyworld model.

Line Jumpers. This was a disappointment. Despite the “reminder for your enjoyment” on the brochure to “Line up together with your entire party, please respect other guests while queuing, and guests should not jump ahead of others in the queue” I saw people blatantly disregard this repeatedly. At the security line, the ticket line, lines at the carousel, Dumbo, Buzz Lightyear, Storybook Court…just about anyplace there was a line I witnessed people trying to bypass it. At the security line on our second visit a woman walked right up and then stood in front of me. When I pointed this out, in Chinese, she turned to look at me, responding in English, with “I did not see you there.” When I indicated this was pretty unlikely as she stepped right in front of my daughter’s stroller she shrugged and told me “This is China. You are not going to be able to control us all.” That does not bode well.

Stitch in Chinese. As annoying as you can imagine.

Language. Although there are English and Chinese brochures the primary language is, naturally, Chinese. You may have heard that Chinese is a difficult language. i.e. You cannot sound out characters and figure out what they mean. Not a chance. Most shows and information for attractions are in Chinese. Disney even created a Mandarin-only live production of the Lion King for the theater in Disney Town. We went to see the Stitch Encounter. I should have known that something was up when there was only a 10 minute wait. In Hong Kong you can see shows in Cantonese, Mandarin, and English. In Paris, it’s in English or French. In Shanghai, It is all in Chinese. (Though in their defense Tokyo has only Japanese). My daughter loved it—I expect it is a combination of her understanding of Chinese and connecting with an annoying animated alien—but I learned to never get in line for that attraction again. Ever.

And as usual in China, my daughter became an added attraction for local guests. She entertained other people in line simply by also being in line. She was photographed by far more than myself and the Disney photographer while chatting with princesses and other Disney characters. It added another exhausting element to a day at the park.

Take the Metro

This way to Disney

I do not have many tips other than take the metro to the park. It has its own stop on line 11 and reportedly even a few trains are decked out in Disney. It’s an inexpensive and quick way to get there and back. Just check the last train times because once its closed I hear the taxi drivers are unforgiving. Oh, and also, if you are riding the metro do not buy any of those beautiful Disney balloons—no balloons are allowed on the Shanghai subway. I found out the hard way leading to once very sad little girl. But luckily I knew before we went to Disney.

So did we have fun? We sure did. This is the closest I may ever live to a Disney park. Though given I am in the Foreign Service (Hong Kong, Paris and Tokyo could be possibilities) and I could choose to live in either Florida or California… I expect to take C again once the park officially opens so we can also stay at least one night in the Toy Story hotel. Even with the negatives it is still Disney and we are on the path to hardcore Disneydom.

March 23, 2016 by trs

Americana: A Californian Chinese New Year

I have heard the time around the Spring Festival, as the Chinese call it, referred to as the largest annual human migration in the world. It is not only all the Chinese traveling to be with their families, but also the foreigners in China taking advantage of the long holiday to get away.

When we first arrived in China it was just three weeks before Chinese New Year. I knew having just moved to China that 1. I would not have the energy to take a trip that soon, and 2. Even if I had wanted to, it was far too late to book a trip.

It was good to stay in Shanghai that first Chinese New Year. My household effects (HHE) were delivered just the day before the holiday started so I could spend it putting my apartment in order. The streets were quiet and I had a week to get to know my new city. But I told myself there was no way I would stay in Shanghai the following Lunar New Year.

The way the holiday shook out is February 6-10 (Saturday – Wednesday) were the Chinese national days off. The following Monday, February 15 was President’s Day. So I could take just two days of annual leave and have ten full days off. I thought of going to Kenya or Jordan or Thailand. Somewhere exotic. That is what I used to do when I had a long holiday – take a long trip to someplace unexpected. But what I really wanted to do was be in the US drinking in America.

A Huntington Half Marathon

C gets in some pony riding in her Elsa dress and pink cowgirl boots. Because that is how she rolls.

We started our holiday in the Newport / Huntington Beach area, about an hour south of Los Angeles. Back in August I had signed up for the Surf City Half Marathon. The heart issues had started but I positive that I could still train for and complete the half. It was before the Medevac to Singapore and then Washington, DC. It was before I had the heart procedure. By November 11 I was back in Shanghai and determined to train. My plan was a 5K before the end of November, then a 10K before the end of December and finally 15K by the end of January and then just try my luck.

I did the 10K by the end of December but it was really, really, really slow. I had some serious doubts. But my virtual group of runners trying to hit the roads and trails all around the world encouraged me to still try – that the time would not matter. And a very good friend currently posted to Washington, DC said she would fly out to run with me.

Before the half C and I just sampled the joys of being back in the US. Our first day in the States involved landing, renting a car, and then driving down the coast in Friday afternoon Orange County traffic. So it was pretty great.

For our first full day I took my pony-loving daughter to Irvine Regional Park for pony rides and a visit to the zoo. We had hot dogs and French Fries and sat outside in the glorious Southern California sunshine. Such a change from the cold, overcast, smoggy skies of a Shanghai winter.

I got me some race bling. And some running zen.

The morning of the half the sitter arrived from Mollycoddlers, an Orange County sitter and nanny service. (I am sure lots of people have wondered how I do these half marathons in different parts of the country as a single mom. The answer is a hotel babysitting service!). I met my friend in the lobby of our Huntington Beach hotel for the race shuttle to Newport Beach. We had a lot of time on the shuttle and at least an hour at the race hotel before the start to catch up. It was important because although we have run several races together, we do not actually run side by side as her pace is a good two minutes per mile faster than mine.

I had no idea how the half would go. My training had been haphazard. I was jet lagged.

The temperatures were unseasonably warm. Yet it was a good course. Flat. I did not care about my time. I ran a half for the first time in a long time without a running watch (it had been in the unfortunately misappropriated bag lost to the taxi driver in December). I walked through each water stop. I had fun. I told myself I could finish in three hours if I needed to. But I didn’t. It wasn’t even my slowest half.

I realize that many people might be shaking their heads – why in the world would anyone run a half marathon on their vacation? For me though, when I run, when I was running, I was not a mom, I was not a visa adjudicator, it was just me running in the sunshine on a course with a bunch of other strangers – all of who have their own reasons and goals for running. It’s liberating.

Afterwards, it being Superbowl Sunday, C, my friend, her boyfriend, and I sat in the hotel bar, watched part of the game and the half time show, and ate and drank. If that isn’t Americana, then I don’t know what is.

Friends, Family, and Disney

When I was 11 years old my mom took my sisters and I to LA. I begged to go to the La Brea Tar Pits, but we didn’t. I had to close the circle.

After Newport Beach we headed south to Carlsbad to stay with my mother’s cousin who I had not seen since I was twelve years old. Now I am….much older. Yet despite the years, when I reached out to her she responded immediately to my email and invited C and I to stay with her. We had such a wonderful time and her husband and their therapy dog. We also drove down to San Diego to meet up with a friend from my Jakarta book club days and on another day we met a grad school friend at the La Brea Tar Pits.

Back in my pre-State, pre-mom days my vacation modus operandi was generally to fly solo to another country or another continent but rarely to visit home. Maybe it is age or being a mother or this particular career, but I have a strong desire to spend more time reacquainting myself not only with friends and family but also with my country.

I felt such incredible joy driving a car down US highways, listening to Top 40 radio stations, or lying awake jet lagged watching American television programming featuring tiny houses. Even billboards featuring Serta mattresses make me deliriously happy. There were several times when apropos of nothing I simply stretched out my arms and yelled “I love you America!”

But I am familiar with America. For me a trip home is celebration of the things I love and miss (or even had no idea I missed) and want to revisit and carry back in me. For my daughter though, it is not a place she knows well. In her four years of life she has lived only a quarter of it in the States.

A few weeks before traveling to the US I read an online parenting article aimed at American parents and their propensity to take their kids to Disney on vacation. The author’s goal is to encourage parents to broaden their children’s horizons, which is certainly admirable. But there is nothing wrong with taking your kids to Disney. Disney is the quintessential Americana. And I very much want to give my child those kinds of experiences. She may not always or even ever just be able to get on a bicycle and ride around a neighborhood. So if I can give her Disney and quality zoos and snow cones and ballpark hot dogs on occasion, I will.

This happy face needs no caption.

After nine days in beautiful Southern California it was time to head back to Shanghai. I am not sure that I did this, but I hope I took a sufficiently long deep breath of the good air quality air and closed my eyes and savored the warm feel of the SoCal sun on my face.

January 31, 2016 by trs

Hong Kong Birthday

At the Lantau Island Buddha in the summer of 1996. I look pretty stunned, which could explain why I have no recollection of this at all.

Hong Kong. To me, it is one of those places the very name evokes a sense of adventure and excitement. I first visited in the summer of 1996, a vacation from my English teaching job at an after school cram school in Seoul, South Korea. It was part of a wildly concocted two week trip that would include Hong Kong, Macao, Guam, an unexpected stopover in Saipan due to a typhoon in my flight path, and Guangzhou. The most thrilling part I recall was running full speed down a pier in Hong Kong and jumping aboard the boat that would take me overnight to Guangzhou, the gangplank pulled in behind me. The second time was in the spring of 1999; I was an English teacher in the government-sponsored JET Program in Yamaguchi, Japan and spent a few days exploring Hong Kong while securing my visa to re-visit Beijing. I must have gone up Victoria Peak in the tram that second time. Yet all I have are a few vague memories of cold, bureaucratic, but quick formalities at the Chinese Consulate.

How had it been so very long ago since I had visited? I wanted to visit Hong Kong once again. After some research online – determining that January was one of the best months in the territory – I decided my daughter’s birthday over the Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend was the time to go.

Back in August, when I bought the tickets, it seemed quite reasonable and exciting to have trips planned for September/October (Dominican Republic), November (Chengdu), December (Sanya), and January (Hong Kong). By the time the Hong Kong trip was rolling around though I had instead come to the conclusion that I must have made these plans in a fit of insanity, possibly a function of having nearly survived a summer without leave through the biggest visa demand period in history. Maybe. Or maybe I just do crazy stuff like this all the time? (My past travel record would, I expect, point to the latter)

The Dominican Republic trip happened of course and it was wonderful. But Chengdu was cancelled because of my unanticipated month-long Medevac back to Washington, D.C. And Sanya, yeah, that one was far less restful than expected. (See Shanghai Escape, Derailed)

A colder and wetter view than I had expected. Star Ferry ride over to Hong Kong Island.

Given the Sanya episode I approached the Hong Kong trip as a nervous travel maniac. I double-checked, triple-checked, quadruple-checked the departure time of the flight daily on a travel website to make sure the flight time did not change. The last thing I wanted to do was miss a flight…again. I decided not to check a single piece of luggage. I hesitated to bring the newly purchases Kindle Fire Kids Edition (the replacement for the lost/stolen iPad), but in the end placed it and several other belongings into a new tote that would, I hoped, never leave my eyesight.

My soon-to-be four year old daughter too seemed traumatized by the Sanya episode. When a week before our trip she accidentally punctured a colorful sport ball we had had since Juarez and I informed her that we would need to throw it away, she broke down in sobs. “No,” she blubbered, “I don’t want to lose any more toys.” She insisted that the deflated ball was now her second most favorite toy in the world, after her beloved stuffed animal Black Cat, and that Pink Ball should also come with us to Hong Kong. I said no but then relented, imagining the hilarious pictures of Pink Ball in various Hong Kong locations. Unfortunately the day before departure I could not locate Pink Ball. <sigh>

The day before departure I wondered if maybe we needed to be at the airport earlier than expected? Sure enough I checked with a colleague who had just been and yes, we would be traveling through the international terminal and passport control on both ends. I thanked my lucky stars I knew that before rather than after the flight. Visions of Sanya, and the missed flight that started it all, swam through my brain.

Still the flight left late. I thought back to when I lived in China in 1994 and how foreigners fondly changed the acronym for the Civil Aviation Administration of China (CAAC) to “China Airlines Always Cancel.” I have heard that every single commercial flight in China must be cleared before take-off through an office in Beijing. I do not know if it is true, but I have yet to be on a flight that departed on time. Only flights we were not on (i.e. to Sanya).

Maybe it is Nathan Road or my own limited outings in Shanghai, but Hong Kong sort of felt more Chinese to me than China. Except with Facebook.

January is supposed to be one of the best months to visit Hong Kong. I read online, it has the lowest amount of rainfall and the most comfortable temperature. So imagine my dismay as I checked, and re-checked the weather report for our trip dates, and it was not only colder than expected but predicted to rain four out of the five days. Over 80% chance of rain each day, including our days at Disneyland and on C’s birthday.

Despite the late flight, the rain, the colder-than-expected temps, I felt pretty pumped when we landed and as we rode into town on an airport bus to central Kowloon. A very kind Indian woman, resident in Hong Kong for fifteen years, not only engaged my daughter in conversation on the bus, sharing photos of her own recent trip to Hong Kong Disneyland and explaining she was pretty good friends with the Princesses, but also helped us to get down from the crowded bus when we reached our stop. The ten minute walk down three long city blocks through the cold misty rain did not damper my spirits.

We arrived at our hotel, down a side street in Mongkok, somewhere near where I must have stayed in a cheap cramped guesthouse with friends in 1996, and in our room I posted direct to Facebook. Freedom. Hong Kong may have been returned to China, but with an international flight and immigration checks to get here and a very different Internet environment, it certainly did not feel like China.

On our first full day out in Hong Kong disaster struck. C lost Black Cat, her much-adored stuffie who had been with us for over two years. For a little stuffie Black Cat sure got around. He or she, C referred to it as both, went with us everywhere from the grocery store to museums to across the globe. Black Cat had been to seven countries and territories and approximately sixteen US states. I thought Black Cat would be the stuffie that C would hold onto forever, into adulthood. But Black Cat must have used up his nine lives. He had been dropped, run over by the stroller, left behind and retrieved, so many times that our second chances had finally run out.

The last known whereabouts of Black Cat

I took a picture of C sitting on a bollard near the Star Ferry terminal. She has Black Cat. Then she hops over to the stroller and informs me we need to make a pit stop before we head to the ferry. I spy a public bathroom just 50 feet away and off we go. By the time we make it to the stall she no longer has Black Cat. We run outside but in that space of time and physical space we have lost the stuffie; he/she is nowhere to be seen. C is inconsolable. She bawls loudly as I push her through the ferry terminal and onto the vessel. Huge tears roll down her face as she sits on the ferry. She sobs out loud “Black Cat, don’t leave me. Please come back. I miss you so much!” I tell her I am so sorry and ask if there is anything I can do. “Yes,” she tells me, “find my Black Cat.” There is nothing I can do. I tell her this. There is no reason to sugar coat it although I feel like the worst mom in the world.

On the other side, on Hong Kong Island, we meet up with my friend L who back in 2001 took a summer intensive Chinese class with me in Monterey, CA. We were roommates that summer and we both graduated from the Monterey Institute of International Studies. She has been living in Asia, in Hong Kong, Taiwan, and Singapore for most of the intervening years. This is not how I wanted her and her children to meet my normally high-spirited, effervescent daughter, now in the throes of her greatest loss. But it is what it is. And surprisingly, C, after pouting for a good 30 minutes, warms up to them all and is in good spirits at lunch.

I should have known something was up. By the time we return to the hotel by 4 PM she is calm and rested, having napped in the stroller the whole walk back from Tsim Sha Tsui. However, when she wakes she informs me that she will simply ask Santa to bring her Old Black Cat next Christmas. I am amazed at her creativity and feel like the Grinch when I tell her this is beyond Santa’s powers.

The next day we wake. It is Sunday and C’s 4th birthday. I again feel pretty bad about letting Black Cat get away. However, when I ask C about it she informs me, “Black Cat likes Hong Kong and has decided to move here to be with his Grandma and Grandpa.” I am stunned. Four years old and already so grown up. Plus Black Cat is one very wise stuffie; I too want to move to Hong Kong.

Hello wonderful Disney Hollywood Hotel.

We meet my friends D&B, who had come down from Guangzhou to visit Disneyland with us, down in the lobby. It is raining cats and dogs, heavy sheets of rain are shot down from the cold, steel grey sky. It looks like an unfortunate day to visit an amusement park. We cannot get a taxi. It is also the day of the Hong Kong Standard Chartered Marathon and no taxis are able to get to our particular road. We wait. The rain lets up and we all decide to try to walk over to the MTR stop some fifteen minutes away to try to take the train to Disneyland (there is a stop at the park). We are lucky to find a nice taxi driver willing to give it a go.

When we pull up to our hotel, the Disneyland Hollywood Hotel, the whole place smells like fresh flowers after the rain; it is a lush desert oasis after a terrible sandstorm. There on the red carpet leading to the hotel I cancel my hotel the following night near the airport and book a second night at the Disney hotel. The magic of Disney was already working on me.

We store our bags and head straight to the park. The sun, believe it or not, comes out. I know I cannot believe it but I am thrilled. I may have even danced a jig. I may have thrown my arms out and thanked the Gods, Mother Nature, or Kismet for this blessed event. I had wanted this day to be perfect for C and though determined to make it so despite the rain, I was glad I did not have to contend with a soggy day.

Of course we met with several princesses! Ariel wins for most awesome because she spent a lot of time with the birthday girl, even playing a little game of tag with her.

We rode the carousel, two times; it remains C’s favorite ride. We all took a spin on the tea cups, which by the way are not built for three adults and one child. Nor for someone my age who sometimes feels sick in the backseats of cars after spending so little time in them while living much of my adult life overseas. A trip on the Jungle River Cruise revealed that natives shooting arrows from an unfriendly village and a mountain that breathes fire are not four year old fare. I read the warning after the ride. Oops. Yet we even rode Space Mountain, C’s first roller coaster. I could scarcely believe that she met the height requirement, but she did. Just. Once the ride started I felt kind of bad to have brought her on, remembering my own fear riding this same attraction when I visited Disneyland California at age eleven. It was sort of hard to hear C crying over my own screams. Yet she surprised me once again when she declared at the end (after heaving a huge sigh of relief that we had survived), “I had to cry a little bit, but it was okay.”

We took a break, returned to the hotel, checked in and enjoyed a walk around the grounds and a rest before returning in the evening for the parade and fireworks show. I had expected just a good parade and then some good fireworks. Both were beyond anything I could have imagined. I sort of felt that other people who had been to Disney had been sworn to some secret oath not to reveal the true amazingness of the spectacle.

We said goodbye to D&B the following morning after breakfast and C and I returned to the park for another day of fun. The weather was even better than the day before. As a result, despite it being a Monday, the crowds were larger and the wait times for rides longer. More carousel time, a whirl on the Disneyland railroad, a visit with Anna and Elsa and Cinderella and we managed the Winnie the Pooh and Dumbo rides despite the longer lines. We called it an earlier day so I was very glad to be able to relax in our lovely Disney hotel room and catch the movie Up with C in the lobby bar and restaurant.

The next morning as we departed for the airport right after the 11 am check-out it had grown cold again, the fog so thick that visibility was very limited. Had we tried to head to the Lantau Buddha, my original plan until I realized that getting there would take more time than we had, we would not have seen much. Our flight was not until 4 pm but the man at the check-in counter moved us to a flight leaving an hour earlier. Of course though, this being a Chinese flight, it left an hour late…

All in all, even with the loss of Black Cat, Hong Kong turned out to be a wonderful getaway.

The view from our Disney hotel room on a beautiful, clear Hong Kong morning

January 1, 2016 by trs

Shanghai Escape, Derailed

It is winter in Shanghai, which apparently translates to short, cold, gloomy, and overcast days. When it has not been raining the air quality has been poor. It is not Beijing Red Alert poor, but it has already warranted twice receiving this message:

The second time we received it was the day before our flight. It was time to get out of dodge.

The Plan: Leave the drab, choking skies of Shanghai behind for a beach resort in Sanya Bay, on the southern Chinese island of Hainan, known as China’s Hawaii. The island is located at the same latitude as the Hawaiian Islands and is China’s only tropical beach destination. Blue skies, palm trees, warm weather, and a place in China where no one has to check the Air Quality Index. The perfect balmy Christmas getaway.

The Airport: We arrived at Pudong airport at 9:25 am for check in for our 10:45 am flight. Except it turns out that our flight time was moved up, to 10:05 am…and the flight closed 40 minutes before departure…so even before I stepped into the check-in line it was already too late. In all the years and places I have flown I have never missed a flight.

The airline was able to rebook us on a later flight departing at 3:50 pm. I felt rather thrilled we were still arriving the same day and I made sure to take advantage of the time at the airport. We had lunch and then C took a nap while I cracked open the 700+ page book for my January Book Club meeting. Then the flight was delayed two hours. No problem! There was a massage chair place located across from our gate – I had a massage and my daughter sat in the next chair playing nicely with her iPad.

Just three hours by plane from wintry Shanghai to the balmy beaches of China’s southern most point

The Plane: Once on the plane I realize this is the first domestic Chinese flight I have taken since 1994.

I particularly remembered a flight from Chengdu to Urumuqi. There was no English to be found on the plane. Instead the information was in Chinese and Russian, the airplane seemed to be an old Aeroflot. The color scheme of the cabin was something like hospital white. Plane cabin temperature was set to somewhere around “sauna” and a leak of some sort dripped on me from the overhead compartment for the length of the flight. And smoking was allowed on the plane.

Fast forward to 2015 and the China Eastern flight is world-class. Comfortable seats, designer cabin colors in a palette of warm sand, professional flight attendants, English information. I sat back and relaxed, reading my book club book to page 345. We were on our way to vacation!

The Holiday Inn Resort Sanya Bay. It is beautiful.

Arrival and Derailment: We land in Sanya at 8:30 pm, 5 ½ hours later than originally planned, but it is 77 degrees so I don’t care. Suitcases in hand we headed to the domestic airport legal taxi stand and wait.

Twenty-five minutes later we are in a taxi. Whew! We are soon to be on our way to the hotel to officially start this vacation. I feel so happy. I tell the driver the name of our hotel and she doesn’t understand. She confers with a taxi line attendant then she grunts in what I assume to mean “ok, yeah, I know where that is” and off we go–all of 20 feet before the driver pulls over, gets out of the taxi, and barks at the occupants of the back of the taxi line. Soon three additional passengers, two additional fares, are squeezed into the cab. I am forced to hold my daughter on my lap.

We stop and the driver tells the man in the front this is his stop. Then the driver gets out and opens my door, takes my daughter off my lap and places her in the street and tells me this is where I get out. “But where is my hotel?” I ask. The driver makes some noises that sound like “I don’t know” and “You can look around here.” She points to the suitcases in the back and I tell her the blue one. And then suddenly headlights are on us, a truck is heading our way, my daughter is in the middle of the street. I am distracted. The taxi driver takes off. I get my daughter to safety. I realize my other bag is in the taxi…with my new computer, my daughter’s iPad, and our jackets…

I walk two blocks with my daughter to the closest hotel. An English speaking manager helps to locate our hotel and takes us there by taxi. We had been nowhere nearby.

Despite the rocky beginning, my daughter jumps for joy on the beach.

At our hotel the police are called. The officer who arrives is far more interested in my marital status than in my missing bag. He is fascinated that I am single, never married and have a child. He says he will return the next day, but I never see that cop again.

In the hotel room my daughter says, “Mom, I am sad about our bag, but this is a beautiful hotel.”

Fuel to the Fire: After breakfast and some beach time I head onto my first order of business to recover my vacation – obtaining chargers for my two phones (the chargers were unfortunately also in the bag).

The hotel furnished me with the location in Chinese where they promised up and down I could obtain chargers for both of my phones. I admit, I was skeptical, but I was thrilled when 30 minutes later we arrived at a phone supercenter, selling just about every phone and accessory you could imagine. Not only did they have a charger for my iPhone 4S but even for the Nokia dumb brick phone provided by the Consulate. I not only felt relief, I felt I had personally thwarted fate in a superhero kind of way.

The Hui woman who sold us the Little Mermaid accessories, um, I mean, the shell necklaces.

We had lunch nearby and I bought C an ice cream cone that she nursed our two block walk to the beach and then as we walked along the waterfront. It actually sort of, kind of did remind me of the walkway in Waikiki. If I had been in Waikiki maybe in 1930? I bought C a shell necklace and conk shell whistle from an ethnic Hui woman on bicycle. Although the Muslim Hui are generally a northwestern minority, there is a large group on Hainan. I mused that perhaps there were more similarities between Hainan and Hawaii beyond their latitude and the letter “H.” There is also the military presence (with a base right in the middle of Sanya Bay fronting the beach, much like Waikiki’s Fort DeRussy) and an ethnic group subsumed and co-opted by tourism.

I had difficulty finding a taxi to take us back to our hotel – all the traffic on the beachfront road was heading in the wrong direction, all the cabs already with passengers. Even after turning up a side street to a crossroads, the taxis were few and already full. So I made the decision to take one of the two motorcycle taxis that had been vying for my business for ten minutes.

What do you mean that airport is not a tourist spot? Doesn’t everyone hang out here on holiday?

I know, the parents amongst you may cringe and the Foreign Service Officers may tut-tut my decision. But the current and former backpackers might just give me a thumbs up. C, sandwiched between myself and the driver, yelling “wheee, wheee” as her hair blew in the wind. All was fine until we arrived back at the hotel. I got off the bike and burned my leg, badly as it turned out. Second degree. In all the times I was on motorcycles throughout Southeast Asia I was never burned before…

The Quest: My friends M&S from Shanghai also in Hainan for the weekend joined us for Christmas dinner for company and to get my mind off everything that had happened. And as luck would have it, they hailed a blue colored cab on the way over and secured a telephone number for me. It turns out that there is only one dark blue taxi company in Sanya. How many female drivers could they have?

Bright and early on the second day I prepared for Operation: Get My Bag Back! I started up my iPhone – it was not connected to a phone network and had no VPN, but it could still connect to WiFi and I activated “Find My iPad.” Unfortunately it was offline, but I typed up a message in English and Chinese that would let someone know it was lost and how to reach me. Then I called the tourist complaint line number M&S had provided me and explained the situation in Chinese and then, almost unbelievably, the woman told me an English-speaking colleague would come in at 8 am and call me. Even more unbelievable is at 8 am an English-speaking person DID call me!

Betel nut is popular in Hainan. I ironically found a bag of fresh betel nut left behind in taxi. I handed the bag over the driver and kept one for a photo.

At 9:30, after some checking she phoned me back and told me that I should phone the Airport Customer Service number. I did. Incredibly, they also had someone there who spoke English. That woman told me it would be best if I went down to the airport to talk with the Airport Police to locate the surveillance tape of the taxi line for the night in question. Of course! This is China and there are surveillance cameras everywhere!

Off we went to the airport. I located the police station on the second floor and again told my story in Chinese. The officer there did not seem too sympathetic as he stood in front of a four word police slogan that stated something like “integrity, honesty, service, hard work” – similar to one of those annoying motivational posters found in employee break rooms across the US. He informed me that in fact it was another police station that would be in charge of the taxi line and he gave me their number. I asked him, since I had just explained my whole story, if he could call for me. He shrugged and said he could not as it was my problem and not his.

I did call the number and explain again, in Chinese, my story of woe shouting in my phone above the airport and police station din. However, the policeman on the other end did seem nicer and told me he would see what he could do. A few minutes later my phone rang – an English-speaking woman who identified herself as Lisa and a friend of the second policeman. Lisa would prove to be not only sympathetic but incredibly resourceful.

Despite the off-putting description of this area as a “Buddhist Theme Park” the landscaped grounds are quite nice and the statue is pretty cool. Not an amusement park ride to be seen.

While Lisa did whatever it was she was doing, I went in search of the surveillance tapes. Unfortunately, it turned out that due to airport construction the taxi line bay in the domestic terminal presently has no cameras. Of course it doesn’t! Despite this setback, I took advantage of our time at the airport to have lunch, visit the first aid center to have a nurse take care of my burn, and purchase the only thing resembling a diary from an airport book shop. (Yes, it turned out my diary too was in the bag. I have kept a diary since I was 12 years old and traveled with one all over the world and have never before lost one. Are you sensing a theme here?)

Back to the hotel. Lisa had sent the hotel duty officer the photos of the NINE female drivers employed by the dark blue taxi company for me to identify in a virtual line-up. I selected a few but emphasized that my driver had long black hair worn in a ponytail. We arranged to go to the taxi company the following morning to meet with the drivers and enjoyed the rest of the evening with pool time (well C was in the pool, I was sidelined with my second degree burn) and pizza in our hotel room watching either CNN or the Discovery Channel, our only two English options.

On Sunday we headed to the taxi company. I was quite disappointed to arrive to find only a single female drive in attendance – a woman with short, brown hair. When I explained my disappointment the two women at the taxi company appeared unphased. They said I had identified this woman as one of the possible drivers. I conceded I may have found the face similar from an employment photograph but in other aspects she did not resemble my driver at all. They suggested that perhaps I had confused dark blue with light blue as there was also a light blue taxi company in Sanya. They also incredulously suggested that perhaps I had mistaken a male driver for a woman? I stared at them.

This taxi driver was worth his weight in gold – when C fell asleep on the way to the Goddess of Mercy, he offered to carry her.

I was told that this one female driver was the only one who had been to the airport on the day in question. Ms. Chen showed me the elaborate tracking system they use on all of their taxis – they could input a taxi driver number and a date and time and show exactly where the taxi had been. It seemed impressive but I could not help but feel they were trying to appear helpful without actually being so. In one final show of assistance they typed up a BOLO (Be On the LookOut) describing my lost bag and sent it out to all of their entire fleet of 200+ drivers. They suggested I also visit the Public Security Bureau, but I was done.

Instead back on the street I hailed a taxi to take us to the 108 meter high Goddess of Mercy statue located at the Nanshan Cultural District Buddhist Cultural Park. I may have lost a bag full of valuable items, received a second degree burn on my leg after an ill-advised motorcycle ride, and spent countless hours in fruitless pursuit of the aforementioned bag, but I was going to see one tourist site in Hainan! The funny part is that on the way I started to think about what I might see the next time we came. If I was thinking about a next time, this time could not really be that bad, right?

I could have seen this as just a crappy vacation where everything went wrong or I could see it as a trip with some challenges and an epic quest, which though was ultimately unsuccessful in obtaining the sought after item, resulted instead in learning valuable lessons on what is truly valuable. I did lose a lot of stuff (about $1300 worth) but I can replace them and am lucky to be in a position to say that.

In the taxi over to the taxi company, my almost-four-year-old daughter turned to me and said, “Mommy, I am sorry about our bag, but don’t worry, it is just games.” She was thinking about her lost iPad, but regardless, she had a point. And if my kid is telling me at this age, I have to be doing something right.

The view of the South China Sea from our hotel balcony.

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