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NK 10. Oggy, oggy, oggy

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Monday, 17 April 2017

Pyongyang, DPRK

Think we can safely say that the Chongchon Hotel could be described as shabby chic but without the chic. Unable to turn off the underfloor heating the room is stifling and opening the window is a no no because of all the midges that swarm in. Need to take the quilt out of its cover sheet and sleep on top of the quilt and two other quilts in the wardrobe as the bed is like lying on a slab of concrete. So hard is it.

Whilst closing curtains/window last night, saw a security man patrolling the hotel grounds with a bright flashlight. The girls in our group had been told yesterday evening by our female guide to keep balcony doors and windows closed and locked for security as it’s not safe. Not sure if that was a means to ensure we don’t leave our hotel or if it really is unsafe. We have been instructed from the start of the trip that we are not allowed to wander out of the various hotels on our own and must stay put with the rest of the group.

Wake up to the dulcet tones of what sounds like Tony Blackburn. It surely can’t be. Can it? In the middle of North Korea?! But yes. It is. The girl in the next room is playing a recorded BBC Radio 2 programme which can be heard through the paper thin walls.

Breakfast is omelette with toast and jam. Wanting more than the regulation one cup of coffee, made to pay one euro for an additional cup. I mean, really?!

Chucking it down with rain as we walk down the main street of Myohyang town.

Guide tells us we’re being watched so only to take photographs when he says it’s OK.

Apartment blocks are three to four storeys high with very faded paint and told they’re 17 years old. Look much older than that. A street sign for a restaurant has chopsticks instead of our western knife and fork. The main square is a large expanse of concrete with a local government building on one side. Guide looks around and tells us to take photos very quickly as we may have problems. Quite from what or whom we don’t know.

Korean music is playing through loudspeakers installed at regular intervals. Apparently the music is on a patriotic theme to liven up the lives of the locals and make them work for the benefit of the country and be productive in their work.

This is the real DPRK we’re witnessing. Not like the relatively touristy capital. It’s fascinating.

Be thankful you live in the west. With your first world problems. Like no ripe avocadoes at Waitrose.

Short journey up the valley towards Mount Myohyang on Forestry Commission type gravel roads. And then. A surprise.

A massive 5 star hotel.

One of the best in the DPRK.

Having suffered power and water cuts in the night and hot shabby rooms in the Chongchon hotel last night all demand to know why we didn’t stay in the five star?! It’s EUR200 a night says the guide. Sod that. All happy to pay the extra.

Halfway up the valley is the Pohyon Temple. Founded in 1042 but heavily damaged in the Korean War. Restored and heavily decorated in colourful paint, it is said that the temple houses the original tablets of Confucius.

The main reason for travelling up through Alpine scenery towards the 6,000ft Mount Myohyang though is the International Friendship Exhibition. Housing all the gifts given to the Kims from other world leaders, visiting dignitaries and other assorted entities.

Before entering the complex built into the mountain, which I suspect could be used as a nuclear bunker, we’re shown the massive entrance doors about 4m high. Told they are solid brass. Looks like a paint job to me.

As with the mausoleum a few days ago, security is tight and all bags and cameras have to be checked in before passing through security scanners and then being patted down with wands by female staff in military uniform.

The complex is on six levels. It is phenomenal. Never seen anything like it. Massive hallways with massive chandeliers. The like of which I doubt I will ever see again. The DPRK does chandeliers like nowhere else. Not even the Middle East.

Many long corridors. Some 300m long (I kid you not) with numbered rooms off each side for gifts from particular countries. Chinese, Russian and African nations have the most gifts with whole series of rooms dedicated to them. European democracies, on the other hand, just have single display cases lumped together in the same room. The UK’s display cabinet has gifts from a number of insurance brokers which seems bizarre with the rest from various loony leftie workers’ parties.

Told of a French director of a company who gifted an ornate metal table topped with crystal glass. It was very expensive and because of that he was expecting it to be personally used by Kim Il-Sung. You can imagine how gutted he was he when visited the exhibition on a second trip and discovered his table in one of the display cases having been simply put directly there and unused by Kim Il-Sung.

One of the best gifts is from China and depicts a river and trees. Only on closer inspection do you realise it’s made from colourful bird feathers. Extraordinary.

The largest gift is a Russian aircraft which is housed in a hangar like room. The lengths to which all these gifts have been accommodated in this massive complex is bewildering.

Taken to three rooms with wax models of Kim Il-Sung in one, Kim Jong-Il in another and Kim Suk in the other. Kim Suk being the wife of Kim Il-Sung who died aged 32. In each room, have to line up in two rows and bow deeply and long from the waist at the wax models. In silence. Solemnity is the word here.

Except. One of our group, an Irish lad, doesn’t bow. Joke that we’ll see what happens when he tries to leave the country.

Our tour guide of the complex is a beautiful women dressed in typical DPRK dress and although she only speaks Korean she engages us with her beautiful brown eyes. The women in our group want a photo of her but she doesn’t want to. Having shared a little laugh with her about my height at the beginning of the tour I offer my right arm and give her a nod to join me for a photo.

And she does. Taurean charm you see.

However.

The women don’t want me in the photo.

So.

On the word ‘go’ I have to dart to my left to leave a beautiful woman on her own.

Fortunately she laughs at my antics. She’s really nice.

Back down the mountain and treated to lunch in the five star hotel we passed earlier. But as we find in other hotels, not that busy. You get the feeling there aren’t many guests. Even though it’s fully staffed. Excellent lunch and probably the best food we have on the tour. A foil parcel is presented on our plates. Ooh the excitement. Well, dear reader, it’s cut open to reveal. Half a fish. Yep. There’s a fish head staring up at me from my plate. Chopped in half.

Returning to Pyongyang along the same road we came, see an ancient tractor in a field. Seems to be on fire in the engine bay but can only assume this is a steam driven tractor as there’s a lot of steam/smoke from what appears to be the exhaust.

Drive through the suburbs of Pyongyang to the Mangyongdae Native Site. The birthplace of Kim Il-Sung in 1912. Told that it’s the exact thatched cottage where he was born and is still in-situ from over 100 years ago. Call me sceptical but it all looks a bit new and well kept to me.

Yet another very attractive female guide. The DPRK does very attractive female guides.

The ‘cottage’ is set in a large parkland and there’s more music playing over the loudspeakers. The various artefacts on show, including cooking utensils and pots, were all used by the family 100 years ago. Apparently.

Nearby is the Mangyongdae Fun Fair. Think disused amusement park last seen in Scooby Doo. You get the picture.

And to round the day off. On the bus, male tour guide surprises us with a rendition of ‘Oggy, oggy, oggy’. Who knew Max Boyce was big in the DPRK?!

Return to the Yanggakdo Hotel (www.north-korea-travel.com/yanggakdo-hotel.html) to discover we’ve all been given the exact same rooms that we had when we first arrived. Key cards are a precious thing in the DPRK. They all have the room number sellotaped on them. You must hand the key card back upon checking out. Don’t even think about leaving the country with a key card to your hotel room.

Hoping for a decent night’s sleep with no knocking again.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

NK 9. Bowing to the Kims

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Sunday, 16 April 2017

Mount Myohyang, DPRK

At last. A night’s sleep without someone banging on my door in the middle of the night!

Bliss.

My ration of one fried egg for breakfast and one coffee. Although there is plenty of other food available.

Today’s highlight is to see the preserved bodies of Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il in the mausoleum. The Kumsusan Palace of the Sun mausoleum. And by mausoleum, I mean the most enormous building and complex built specifically to display their bodies, to enable people to pay their respects. Last time I saw a building as big was in Ceacescu’s Bucharest.

There’ll be plenty of bowing today. I can assure you.

Once at the mausoleum the rules dictate that we leave everything on the bus apart from cameras which have to be checked in for collection after paying our respects.

The pre-tour information indicates that to visit the mausoleum one must be well dressed and suit, collar and tie are suggested for men whilst sober dresses for women. As I didn’t have space to pack a suit I’ve had to scrub up with deck shoes, smart jeans and shirt. What you might call smart casual at home. One of our group has indeed dressed up in suit, collar and tie. Making the rest of us look scruffy.

It’s a well organised affair and once off the bus all the visitors, mainly locals, line up in four long single file columns. Instructed to behave ourselves and be quiet and respectful. Guides are concerned that we’ll show them up. They’ll get grief if we do.

As we stand in line waiting our turn to enter, guide suddenly realises that we’ve all got handkerchiefs and tissues in our pockets which is disrespectful and that we’ll have to check them in. He’s now got a handful of snotty tissues and handkerchiefs to deal with very quickly as doesn’t want to miss our slot.

Before entering the complex, we proceed to a basement holding area and have to walk over rotating brushes, to clean the dirt and grit off the soles of our shoes, and then stand on a wet mat before drying them.

Up an escalator in twos and then on a 100m long travellator. In twos. Side by side. No messing around now. Have to stay where we are on the travellator to maintain separation from another group in front and behind. Have to stand up straight. Am told off as have hands behind by back. Apparently it’s disrespectful. Instructed to hold them in front or preferably by the sides. Guides are clearly worried that they’ll be seen to be not keeping control of their group.

And the subsequent repercussions.

More escalators and travellators as we glide by in silence looking at all the photos of the Kims. Finally enter the complex and silently directed by women in long black dresses and men in black suits through very opulent corridors, halls and stairways.

It is, quite frankly, breathtaking. The enormity of it all.

Massive chandeliers hang from the very high ceilings with smaller chandeliers (but still enormous) hanging around the perimeter.

And then. The main event.

The mausoleums of Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il.

Instructed to bow from the waist when at the bodies’ feet and both sides but not at the head end.

Enter as a group but in our rows of four and wait our turn. In silence.

First up is Kim Il-Sung. The mausoleum hall is very large and high ceilinged, maybe 20m high, and bathed in red light. Armed guards stand to attention in each corner.

Taking our guide’s lead we approach, in rows of four, the feet end first and level up as a row of four before bowing deeply and long at the waist. Then again at the right hand side. Bowing deeply and long. Walk past the head end without stopping and then again at the left hand side. Bowing deeply and long.

In silence.

Exit stage left.

More ornate corridors. And when I say corridors I mean large hallways.

Enter another very large hall containing Kim Il-Sung’s train carriage. Large wall map shows the routes he took on the train highlighted in flashing red lights. The routes he took by air in flashing blue lights.

Train carriage is very 50s/60s décor with a patterned carpet your Nan would have chosen, complete with chairs and a couple of desks. The following rooms contain collections of awards and medals conferred on Kim Il-Sung by various countries and universities around the world, including the DPRK.

See one such award from Derby City Council. That hotbed of communist thinking.

Most of the countries are obviously other dictatorships from South America and Africa or the former Eastern Europe and USSR. Another room displays his Mercedes Benz car, which is on jacks, and has a large photo of him by it.

And then.

The mausoleum of Kim Jong-Il. Same expanse as Kim Il-Sung’s

Process is repeated. In silence. Row of four at the feet end. Bow deeply and long from the waist. Then at the right hand side. Miss the head. Bow deeply and long from the waist at the left hand side. In silence.

Exit stage left.

Both preserved bodies are laid out with the bottom two thirds covered up leaving the top of the torso and the head on show. The head rests on a circular pillow with the body enclosed in a glass case, presumably for temperature and humidity control.

There’s also Kim Jong-Il’s train carriage to see which is notable as it’s the carriage where he died and has been left as it was when he died in December 2011. Wooden laminate flooring and big leather sofas down each side with a single table at the end full of papers he was editing/signing. Interestingly, given the USA is public enemy number one, he had an Apple Macbook Pro on his desk. And a foot massager below the desk. His clothes hang on a small clothes horse.

Another more modern Mercedes Benz car is on display. What is it with dictators and Mercedes Benz?

And if all that wasn’t bizarre enough, ushered into a larger hall which has his motor launch on display. Apparently, they built the hall around the boat and the train carriages.

It completes the tour of the mausoleum and we head back the way we came along the long travellators. And glad we got there as it opened as it’s now very busy with locals pouring in to pay their respects.

Retrieve cameras, tissues and handkerchiefs. Now allowed to take photographs outside in the gardens. And by gardens think National Trust large country house gardens.

But we’re not done with bowing.

No.

There’s more to come.

At the Mansudae Grand Monument. Back in the city centre. Up on a hill. A glimpse of which we saw yesterday. Mansudae is where the two 22m high statues of Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il stand looking out over the city.

Another place of pilgrimage for locals to pay their respects.

Not only is there bowing but buying of bouquets of flowers. De rigeur to pay respects and lay a bunch of flowers at the podium upon which the statues stand.

Lots of wedding parties having photos taken with the statues in the background. We have to line up in two rows with the ones selected to buy a bunch of flowers at the front. Standing to attention, facing the statues, the two that have flowers then proceed to lay the flowers at the podium before returning to our group. And then we all bow deeply and long from the waist. In unison. Think of the solemnity of Remembrance Sunday. But with wedding parties behind us.

Great atmosphere and full of locals paying their respects. Makes you wonder if all these flowers are collected at night and then resold the following day.

Wedding party photographer intimates to me that I should join the wedding group for a photo.

So, dear reader, in decades time when the young couple are old and retired, they’ll be looking fondly through their wedding photo album and will remember the time the western giant came lolloping into their wedding photos. And they will smile. “Ah yes, do you remember when…?”

Returning to hotel for lunch in the Chinese restaurant and delighted to discover there’s no kimchi on the menu. Love kimchi. But not every meal. Am all kimchied out.

Checking out of hotel, manage to snatch a few minutes of news from the outside world on Al-Jazeera. Who report that the DPRK have conducted another missile test but that it blew up on take-off.

However.

Local TV news shows a missile taking off and in full flight.

Missile test was expected this weekend. So no surprise.

US Vice President, Mike Pence, is currently in Seoul, South Korea, for talks so will be an interesting few days as Al Jazeera also report that Japan is practising mass evacuations.

Jolly good.

It’s all kicking off.

Before heading to Mount Myohyang, 3hrs north of Pyongyang, a brief excursion on a trolley bus. Not just any old trolley bus, dear reader. This is quite a celebrity trolley bus in Pyongyang. It’s the most merited trolley bus in Pyongyang. All trolley buses gain a star when they’ve done 50,000km without an accident. This one has 132 stars.

Work that out, dear reader. How many kilometres of accident free miles? It works out as an average of 403km per day over the 45 years since it was built in 1972. Hmmm.

The driver has been driving trolley buses for 42 years. He is the most famous and most decorated driver as he’s been driving this particular trolley bus for years without an accident. His wife acts as a conductor and sits in a tiny cubicle by the rear door. There are three designated seats. One for the elderly. One for veterans of the Korean War. One for pregnant women. If you’re sitting in such a seat then you must give it up for them. It’s a great little bus and you can sense how proud the husband and wife team are of it.

Bumpy tarmac roads all the way to Mount Myohyang but doesn’t seem as bad as the Reunification Highway we drove enroute to the DMZ. Lots more paddy fields as we head north rather than the maize we saw heading south to the DMZ. Lots of people working the fields with a mix of tractors and oxen pulling ploughs.

Arrive at the Chongchon Hotel (https://asiasenses.com/accommodation/chongchon-hotel) in Myohyang. Styled in Korean pagoda architecture on the banks of the Chongchon river. Rooms have underfloor heating. Which is incredibly hot. Balcony overlooks the river and instantly reminds of a hotel I stayed at in Kanchanaburi on the River Kwai in Thailand all those years ago. Let’s hope there isn’t a grumpy gecko galloping about inside the ventilation ducts throughout the night. Old friend will be reading this and thinking of my gecko anecdote. And now giggling. You’ll have to wait for the Thailand and Vietnam blog for that particular anecdote, dear reader.

Warned that as we’re out in the sticks that there may be power and water cuts. Hmm. Brave a cold shower whilst I still have running water. No hot water. A small bucket in the corner of the bathroom can be used to store water. Discover at dinner that hot water only available from 2000hrs. Thankful for electricity.

Told that to turn off the stifling underfloor heating you push a big red button on a panel at low level behind the door. Not immune to a bit of fiddling with electrics discover that the button is not connected to anything, having removed the panel face plate to reveal a load of burnt out wiring.

A hot and stifling night beckons.

NK 8. Things that go knock knock in the night

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Saturday, 15 April 2017

Pyongyang, North Korea

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

CHUFFING NORA. WHAT THE FLIP.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Disturbed from a deep sleep. Again. Second night in a row now. I need a bit of peace and quiet.

Assume it’s my wake up call.

Look at watch. Er no.

It’s 2.20 in the chuffing middle of the chuffing night.

What the flip.

It’s not a threatening banging like last night’s escapades. More a polite knock.

And then, through the door, hear the girl next door say, “TT, I need to chat with you.”

FFS.

It continues.

“TT are you awake? I need to tell you something.”

For. The. Love. Of. God.

Lazily get out of bed and open door. Grumpy as a disturbed hibernating bear.

She’s standing there in her jim-jams. In our little ante-lobby.

“WHAT?!” Less than impressed am I. Quite frankly can do without this. Don’t care what crisis it is. I. Need. Some. Sodding. Sleep.

“I need to chat with you. I can’t sleep.” Well I can’t now either. She’s been watching Al-Jazeera TV news (the only foreign TV station we can watch and get a sense of what is going on in the outside world as we have no mobile or internet access).

News reports suggest that China has suspended all flights to the DPRK and that the US is planning a military strike on the DPRK (on account of the DPRK firing missiles). Whilst it’s possible, I think it unlikely that we’ll be used as human shields any time soon.  Really can’t be arsed with this discussion at 0220hrs in the middle of the sodding night and tell her to go to bed.

She’s contemplating how we’ll get out of the country and daren’t take a sleeping tablet now as she won’t wake up in time. And has got herself into a bit of a flap. Assure her nothing will happen in the next few hours and to go back to bed.

FFS. Time. And Place.

Another disturbed night.

Finally, wake up for breakfast. Knackered. Obviously. Breakfast is in the hotel’s banqueting hall. With garish bright pink décor. Plenty of other western tourists. Plenty of food available though rationed to one fried egg.

Today is the 105th anniversary of the birth of Kim Il-Sung, the founding father of the DPRK. It’s a national holiday and the highlight will be the military parade in front of Kim Jong-Un, his grandson and current Supreme Leader. Missiles, tanks, military personnel all to be paraded through the streets of Pyongyang. Assume we won’t be allowed to get close given we are westerners.

How wrong we are.

As we drive to the Worker’s Party monument, plenty of people walking about in their Sunday best heading towards the parade route to cheer on their military. Having parked up one side of a massive plaza we’re allowed to walk to the monument about ten minutes walk away and allowed to mingle with the locals. Something we didn’t think we’d be allowed to do. There’s a great party atmosphere. Bright blue sky, sunny and warm. Everyone very friendly.

The Worker’s Party Monument consists of three 50m high stone pillars with a hammer, sickle and pen on top. Hammer represents the workers. Sickle represents farmers. Pen for intellectuals. A large circular stone base ties them all together in unison. Impressive structure.

Adjacent this monument is a small exhibition and souvenirs showing photos of the Kims in various places. The photos of Kim Jong-Un show his assistants taking notes. Told that they take notes so that they can implement his instructions as he tours factories etc. Hmmm.

As westerners, we’re not allowed access to the central square holding the military parade with Kim Jong-Un but can watch the parade live on TV and ushered into a room for a coffee and a sit down. Our tour guides seem very proud of the military might on display. And it is quite an impressive sight to see all the military on parade. The square is so large that the General taking the salute is driven around in an open topped Mercedes to each section.

Makes Trooping the Colour look like a picnic.

As we walk to the Flower Show, we’re all waving and saying hello to the locals who return the waves and hellos. Such a jolly and relaxed atmosphere. Some locals very happy to have their photos taken but others seem shy and not sure what to do with a westerner.

The flower show is enormous. Set inside a massive exhibition hall with the obligatory display dedicated to a painting of Kim Il-Sung. Again freely mixing with the locals and saying hello. Not at all how it was portrayed in the press back home.

Excellent lunch with grill your own lamb, beef and duck and various salads and rice. Food has been excellent thus far. Not what we had been expecting.

As part of the parade there’s a flypast of various aircraft but the best display is a group of aircraft which fly in formation to show the numbers 1, 0 and 5 to denote the 105th anniversary.

We’re about a kilometre from the parade at this point and watching the various floats drive by from a distance. So assume that’s as near as we’ll be allowed.

Well. Rather surprisingly. And exceeding expectations. We’re taken to the actual parade route. After they’ve paraded in the main square in front of Kim Jong-Un the missiles, tanks and troop carriers then do a lap of honour around Pyongyang. And we have front row seats. There are thousands lining the route. All dressed in their Sunday best. Men in suit and tie. Women in brightly coloured national dress of pink, yellow and red dresses.

At this point in time, as there’s no parade coming by, most are sitting down on the kerb and pavement. Waiting.

Loud music is playing through large loudspeakers atop a van. Soldiers line the wide boulevard. Plenty of men in black suits milling around who look like security, observing. As the floats start to be seen in the distance, the loud music stops and the men in black suits seem to start telling people to stand or giving them a gentle tap on the shoulder to stand.

The parade starts passing our position. All are waving bunches of red plastic flowers as the parade goes past. Shouting. Waving. Cheering.

Awesome atmosphere.

The first float is two very large statues of what would be Kim Il-Sung and Kim Jong-Il were they not covered up in cloth. Told it’s for protection. Very bizarre. After the carnival type floats depicting DPRK life the military hardware trundles by.

Ballistic missiles. Wrapped up in camouflage netting.

Tanks.

Armoured personnel carriers.

Surface to air missiles. Wrapped up in camouflage netting.

Troop carriers.

More tanks. Belching out exhaust fumes and thundering by in a deafening roar.

We’re allowed to stand by the roadside joining in as the missiles and tanks go by. So close to the action.

Look at the videos below.

Utterly brilliant. Never seen anything like it before. Allowed to take photos and videos to our heart’s content. Never thought we would be able to get this close. Considering rule number one in the DPRK is ‘DO NOT TAKE PHOTOS OF MILITARY’ it’s all very relaxed. The soldiers lining the boulevard don’t stop us from taking photos.

A happy and party atmospheres pervades this warm and sunny afternoon.

Awesome experience.

All agree that was a memorable moment. Tour guides are very happy that we are very happy.

Once the parade has passed head to Moran Park where all the locals are now congregating to enjoy the rest of the day. Great atmosphere. Walk up to the Victory/Liberation Monument high up on the hill with cracking views of the city. The base of the monument is being worked on with some bits of builder’s rubble and polythene sheeting and we’re asked not to photograph the base showing the dirt and rubble. Only the top part of the monument. This is the first time we’re asked not to photograph something. It won’t be the last. Can only assume it’s pride.

As we walk through the parkland, a large group of older people are dancing in the woods to music through a loudspeaker. We’re free to dance with them and I’m hoping for a nice young girl to dance with but end up with a middle aged old lady. Great fun though. Blow a kiss to my old lady and she returns it laughing. I’ve pulled. A muscle.

Pockets of people partying and partaking in picnics in the park. Small and elderly local man comes up to the women in our group wanting to kiss them on the cheek in a jokey sort of way. He hasn’t seen me and as I approach behind him tap him on his shoulder and tap my finger on my cheek jokily motioning for a kiss on the cheek. All laugh. And laugh some more when he tries to jump up to try and reach me. So funny. Locals have a sense of humour and up for a laugh.

Take a photo of a group of people and it’s only later that night when checking through photos that it appears to be the same group of people that I took at the Flower Show that morning. Assume it’s coincidence but then remind myself that when in Beijing, a few days earlier, the hotel receptionist told me that she’d heard that the DPRK use actors to follow the tourists around. Makes you wonder.

Evening entertainment at the circus and acrobat show set inside a large purpose built building with grand entrance. They know how to build big statement buildings here. Audience is a mix of a few western tourists, military people in full uniform and locals. Highlight is the comedy duo who do very funny sketches in between setting up various trapeze and trampoline rigs. A shining example of mime having no language barriers. Full on laugh out loud belly laughter.

As it’s the 105th anniversary celebrations, treated to an immense firework display over Pyongyang.

Pyongyang does fireworks.

Absolutely cracking day.

Another memorable day.

Loving the DPRK.

NK 7. Help! Screamed the girl.

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Friday, 14 April 2017

Pyongyang, North Korea

 

ALMIGHTY BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

WHAT THE…

ALMIGHTY BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

VERY LOUD AND VERY CLOSE.

Disturbed from a deep sleep. You can imagine how grumpy I am.

Jetlagged, dazed and confused I come to. At first, I think it’s my wake up call scheduled for 0645hrs.

Look at watch.

It’s 0500hrs. The middle of the chuffing night.

The banging is very loud and incessant.

A man is shouting through the door.

A female voice is screaming for help.

Clucking bell.

It’s the girl in the room next door.

Leap out of bed all gazelle like, unlock and open my bedroom door. Making myself as physically big and aggressive as I can. No idea what I’m about to walk into. Discover a young ‘local’ lad in his twenties banging and shouting on the girl in the next bedroom’s door. You’ll remember from the yesterday’s post that our doors are close together and off a small ante-lobby from the main corridor. The girl is my fellow traveller whom I’ve just met.

Lad is fully clothed. I. Am. Not. Standing there in my t-shirt and boxers. It’s not a good look ladies.

Lad looks dazed and doesn’t seem to know what day it is. Drugs. Alcohol. Stupidity. Sleepwalking. I know not.

Girl next door is screaming from the other side of the door. The lad is taught two English words. One of which is ‘off’. You can imagine the first word.

Girl can now hear me verbally abusing lad and is now shrieking through her door, “TT is that you? I’m absolutely petrified!! Is he drunk?”

Tell her not to worry. It’s OK.

I. Am. Here.

The same two English words are repeatedly barked at lad. He’s clearly not quite sure how to take the giant standing in the doorway in his jim-jams about to throttle him.

He’s now stopped shouting. Partly in fear at what I look like I could possibly do. Murder. Partly because I’m the one who is doing the shouting. Repeating the same two English words. Very loudly. Very aggressively.

The lights are on but no one is at home it seems. The same two English words are shouted. Repeatedly. Can tell he’s startled and is no danger now. He’s calmed down. He’s cowering in the corner.

Try a different word. “Leave!!” shout I.

And, rather surprisingly, he exits our little ante-lobby and stands in the main corridor. Just standing there looking dazed.

The same two English words are shouted. Again. And again. I’ve probably woken up the whole floor now with my shouting. Only an annoying and irritating little sister will know how loud I can shout at someone.

After a minute or so lad wanders off. And disappears. Never to be seen again.

Silence.

Until. A little voice from the girl next door, “Has he gone?”. At which point she comes out of her room, having moved the desk and chairs she had propped up against the door.

So. There we are. She’s in her jim-jams. I’m in my jim-jams. We’ve only just met.

Welcome to Pyongyang.

You couldn’t make it up, dear reader.

My heart is pounding. It’s 0500hrs. Woke up in a state of shock. Wound up. Knackered.

Say goodnight to girl. And back to bed for a 0645hrs alarm call. Ninety minutes later.

Doze for the remaining hour and a half. Until I hear a knocking on my door. Again. Assuming it’s a cleaner or gentle wake up call it’s ignored.

Meet girl in lobby. Both laugh at our nocturnal activities.

And so begins our tour of the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea. As that’s a mouthful I’ll call it the DPRK. Not North Korea.

Driving through the city centre of Pyongyang early morning see plenty of people walking and queuing to pay their respects at very large murals of Kim Il-Sung (the founding father) and Kim Jong-Il (his son). Standard communist era architecture. Lots of apartment blocks in various colours.

Heading south on the Reunification Highway to the DMZ. The De-Militarised Zone at Panmunjon. About 160km/100miles (3 to 3.5hrs drive) from Pyongyang. As we leave the city behind, the landscape is varied and quite mountainous. Very red soil and the farmers seem to be growing maize and rice. Lots of people on bikes and quite a few wave to us as we drive by in the bus. Seems very friendly.

Although tarmac, the road is very rough and bumpy. Hardly any other road traffic. Just us in the bus plus a few cars. Which we’re told will belong to government officials or people high up in the party.

Stop at what would be a motorway service station. The sort you would find in Europe bridging the motorway.

But.

It’s not open. Not enough traffic to warrant opening.

So.

The staff have set up a few tables outside in the car park to serve hot drinks from a flask. And cakes and biscuits. And sweets. Good job it’s not raining.

A significant lack of traffic allows you to stand in the middle of the road. It would be the equivalent of standing in the middle of the M1 during morning rush hour.

Arriving at the DMZ there’s the obligatory souvenir shop and an explanation of the DMZ and the JSA. The Joint Security Area. Followed by security checks to enter the actual DMZ and JSA. Having been to the DMZ in South Korea a few years previously, it’s a lot more relaxed this side of the fence.

Potted history.

The De-Militarised Zone is the 250km long, 4km wide, border between the DPRK and South Korea. Running from the Yellow Sea in the west to the Sea of Japan in the east. Established following the Korean War armistice in 1953, after three years of war between the communist north and the democratic south. Within this DMZ is a meeting point where the two nations negotiated the armistice. This meeting point is called the Joint Security Area.

The Joint Security Area is at Panmunjon. You can visit the JSA as a tourist from both the DPRK side and the South Korean side. Within the JSA is an assortment of buildings including a row of blue huts called the ‘Conference Rooms’ in which the actual border runs straight through the middle. If you see the photos below, you’ll see the blue huts and a raised concrete plinth running between them. That concrete plinth is the border. You’ll recognise it as the place where President Trump met Kim Jong-Un.

In addition, there are administrative buildings belonging to both DPRK and South Korea on each side.

The actual armistice was signed in the Armistice Hall just inside the DPRK border and it’s set out exactly as it was during the peace negotiations in 1953. A fascinating slice of history.

It is sometimes allowed for tourists to enter the Conference Room blue huts and cross into South Korea and back again into the DPRK. Sadly, due to heightened tensions (minor issue of DPRK firing missiles left, right and centre) not able to enter the huts.

Instead, taken inside Panmun Hall, the DPRK’s administrative building to an outdoor viewing balcony for an impressive view of the border and the South Korean admin building with a phenomenal amount of security cameras.

What you have to remember is that we have no internet or mobile phone signal in the DPRK. So you can imagine my delight when I discover that my phone can pick up the South Korean 4G signal. Which necessitates secretly sending a WhatsApp message home without the security guards seeing me.

Lunch is inside the JSA and our first real taste of DPRK food. It’s excellent. Lots of small bowls of various foods placed before us. A smorgasbord of delicacies. Had been warned that we would be overfed despite Western media reports that locals are starving. Whilst that may be the case, we saw no one that looked like they were starving.

Apart from the delicious food, the highlight is being served by stunningly beautiful young girls in green khaki uniforms and…high heels. Rather enjoying the DPRK.

Short tour of the Kaesong Museum, the historically important original seat of learning, founded in 992AD, although the structures we see today date back to the 18th century. Guide points to an old drinking cup and explains that it was used by Generals before going into battle and makes a quip about what to say when drinking. Except the ‘bottoms up’ translates as ‘bottoms it up’.

Leave Kaesong as the schools are coming out and see long lines of children holding hands and waving to us as we drive by. Very friendly.

Back in Pyongyang, treated to a pint in a pub. The Taedadong 3 Microbrewery is one of many and is basically a room with a bar at one end on the ground floor of what appears to be an office block. Very nice pint.

Dinner is in a local ‘hot pot’ restaurant. Not quite Betty Turpin’s Hot Pot. Each person presented with a little burner and a small pan of water and oil. Along with plates of raw ingredients.

CIY. Cook. It. Yourself. Like Masterchef we have to cook the meat, noodles and veg before adding the egg. Great fun and tasty. Plenty of food. Not sure how local a restaurant it is as all the other customers are western tourists.

2100hrs by the time dinner finishes. Late getting back to hotel. Again.

Dear reader, I am shattered.

All I want is a nice long sleep. Undisturbed by being woken up in the middle of the night. Again.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

Antarctica presentation

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Dear reader,

As you are all probably in lockdown somewhere in the world, I thought you might like a little diversion from this coronavirus nonsense.

The YouTube video below is a 40 minute presentation on my Antarctica trip. Make sure you start at the beginning as it may start halfway through.

Best viewed on a large screen or broadcast to your TV.

I’m sure you’ll all agree that I’m no David Attenborough and apologies for the voiceover.

Enjoy.

Stay healthy.

Touring Taurean

NK 6. Fly me to the Un…

3 Replies

Thursday, 13 April 2017

Pyongyang, North Korea

 

You can imagine my excitement at the thought of being in North Korea tonight as I wake up in Beijing.

Instructions are to check in at 1030hrs for a 1400hrs flight into Pyongyang on Air Koryo (I’d never heard of them either). For an afternoon tour and welcome dinner.

Yep.

That’s the plan.

Ho. Ho. Ho.

Arrive at check in to discover a queue of Nepalese with big boxes. Stand in line. Queuing. Patiently.

Until I discover I’m in the wrong queue. This is the big box queue. Not the small luggage queue.

Queue at adjacent small luggage counter.

Until.

An airline worker starts the process of opening up another counter. Herd mentality and everyone soon migrates from the small luggage queue to the new counter queue. You know how it is.

Now 1100hrs and still check in not opened.

1130hrs check in opens. Yay. Here we go.

However.

A couple on the tour in front are told to come back at 1200hrs.

Present myself for checking in.

Told the same thing. Come back at 1200hrs.

Appears that we have all been put on the later flight at 1500hrs rather than the booked 1400hrs.

So.

Turn up again at 1200hrs to be told they’re not ready. Come back at 1230hrs and soon congregate with my fellow travellers on the same tour. We become a group check in rather than individually checking in. Not something I want.

Touring Taurean’s Top Travel Tip: never do a group check in as that means all the baggage tickets are all on one name and thus one insurance policy which will be limited to that person’s insurance.

Board the Air Koryo Tuplov TU-204 aircraft. So bad that the EU has banned them flying into the EU. Delighted to discover extra leg room seat is in fact a full Business Class seat. Surrounded by a group of Italians who it turns out are the Italian Government Minister of Trade and his delegation seeking to do business with the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (DPRK).

Having boarded at 1500hrs then sit on the tarmac for two and a half sodding hours. Nightmare. Eventually push back at 1730hrs but by the time we’ve queued and taxied it’s actually 1830hrs by the time we take off from Beijing for the one and a half hour flight to Pyongyang.

Inflight food is served. The legendary Air Koryo burger. My mantra is ‘if it looks dodgy, it usually is’. Elderly Italian next to me, part of the delegation, looks at it at and tells me, ‘My mother always told me to eat what was put in front of me but this might be an exception!’. Quite.

Land Pyongyang at long last at 2000hrs. The Italian delegation are first off with their film crew and I attempt to tag along but fail miserably and soon stopped by an official as they’re diverted off the air bridge to the VIP Arrivals.

But.

I am the first to get through passport control which takes all of a few seconds surprisingly.

Now entering the DPRK.

Have heard the horror stories of both getting into the country and then out again. Have wiped my computer hard disk of all documents. Mobile phone has been wiped of all photos and videos, Email, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram apps deleted also. It’s now a sterile phone in terms of data. Kindle has been checked to ensure no banned publications. Guide books and bibles not allowed.

Am expecting dour faced men and women in uniform with no tolerance barking instructions. Soviet Union like.

So.

You can imagine my surprise and delight when the first customs officer I meet greets me with a ‘dab’ (old people you will have to Google what a ‘dab’ is but essentially it’s a dance move in which a person drops their head into the bent crook of an upwardly angled arm whilst raising the opposite arm out straight) and a generous smile.

Bloody hell. Was not expecting that!

They’re all smiles and very friendly. Bags arrive 10 minutes after landing in this brand new and shiny airport. This is good. This is better than expected.

Very good first impressions.

My bag is one of the first on the carousel which is retrieved but then it has to go through a security check and X-ray before being released. Not the usual cursory X-ray inspection.

No.

First question: do you have a mobile phone. Yes. Was expecting that anyway. Hand it to them thinking it’s going to be examined and electronically interrogated. But no. It’s simply taken, something is written in a register and it’s given back to me without it even being required to be unlocked.

Luggage is not even bothered with and remains untouched.

Have declared on the customs form the following: DSLR camera, compact camera, mobile phone, laptop, Kindle and two printed magazines.

Expecting the full interrogation of my electronic goods. Given the possibilities of smuggling prohibited publications and videos. But no. They’re not even bothered about the electronics.

What is of greater interest is the two printed publications. Wanderlust travel and Astronomy Now magazines. The height of subversion I’m sure you’ll agree.

They’re taken off me and have to follow the customs officer to meet the Supervisor. Supervisor simply flicks through them and satisfied that they are not subversive material hands them back.

All in all the whole customs experience lasts less than five minutes. Not as bad as I had been expecting given the scare stories I’d been reading about online.

However.

I can’t now leave the security area. Why. You may ask. I don’t have the luggage receipt. Flipping ‘eck. Someone else in our group has all the luggage receipts on her boarding pass. And she’s still queuing for security.

Try and motion to customs officer the situation who soon realises and am allowed back through X-ray to retrieve them. Having landed at 2000hrs find myself in the terminal building hot to trot at 2020hrs. Pretty quick process. And would be great if I was travelling independently and could just jump in a taxi and clear off for much needed food and a beer.

But. I’m not. Now have to wait for the rest of the group to process through security.

Nightmare.

Having only eaten a small sandwich all day I’m getting grumpy through hunger.

You’ll never guess how long it takes, dear reader, to wait for the rest of the group. An hour and a sodding half, dear reader. 2200hrs by the time we leave the airport.

All in need of food and it’s a 40 minute drive to Pyongyang and a restaurant which has seemingly just opened up for us as there are no other punters.

All are knackered and jetlagged. All are hungry. All making polite conversation getting to know each other. All hesitating to eat some questionable food stuff on the table. Group decision to leave it alone. One thought is that it’s not food but a table decoration. And that’s all you need know to guess how questionable it was.

Finally arrive at the Yanggakdo Hotel (www.north-korea-travel.com/yanggakdo-hotel.html) just before midnight.

A long day.

It’s gone midnight and completely knackered but cannot sleep for love nor money. The room is near the lifts and they’re reverberating through the structure making a whooshing noise as they go up and down and vibrating the walls.

It’s also very windy up on the 29th floor and the wind is blowing harmonics through gaps in the window frame. This is solved at 0130hrs by ramming a bottle opener under a double glazing unit to shove it up into the casing which reduces some noise.

I. Am. Shattered. Dear. Reader.

One of my fellow travellers is a lady of about my age. She’s single. She’s in the room next to mine. Our two rooms are accessed by a small connecting lobby (of broom cupboard proportions) which is in itself off the main hotel corridor.

Pay attention to that last paragraph, dear reader. Pay attention. And remember.

NK 5. Scorpion on a stick

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Wednesday, 12 April 2017

Beijing, China

Metro again to Tiananmen Square but after the long 20 minute plus queues for security on Sunday, box clever and avoid the north east exit and head to the south west underpass exit of the Metro, the other side of the road, and straight through the security checkpoint into Tiananmen Square looking at the very long queues on the other side of the road.

No flies on me, dear reader.

Yet another bright blue sky day and quite hot now. Enter the Forbidden City via the main entrance gate. It was here that I came in 1996 and remember having to pay much more than the locals to enter because I was a foreigner. Now everyone pays the same.

Can now visit the main entrance gate podium which is where the Chinese President and Politburo oversee the various parades in Tiananmen Square. It’s the equivalent of the Buckingham Palace balcony.

Have to queue for a ticket. Ny NUS student discount card is produced. Cos I’m still a student, obviously. Ahem. And need the discount.

Have to provide passport.

Security. And more security.

Then on to another hut for security checks.

X-ray scanner and airport style metal detector. It’s a bit stupid as I deliberately walk through with my camera and all belongings in my pockets and little security girl gives a cursory prod with her wand. Have to stand on a little six inch high step whilst she does so. I tower over her and she now comes up to my knees.

Asked what’s it my camera bag.

Camera I say and start unzipping the bag.

But am waved through without having to show camera.

Had this palaver at the Metro X-ray security this morning. They wanted to X-ray my camera bag but, in typical Taurean fashion, I just walked past and simply said ‘Camera!’ and was waved through.

Clearly not a security threat.

Finally, once through security find myself on the outside podium of Tiananmen Gate with an awesome view of Tiananmen Square. It’s only looking at it from a distance that you realise how big it is. The whole place is teeming with tourists. Young security men dressed in black trousers, white shirts and obligatory sunglasses guard the podium. Woe betide the person stepping out of line. There will be no hesitation in forcibly putting you back in line.

Or worse.

Exit Tiananmen Gate and having already bought an entrance ticket assume that’s for the Forbidden City complex, of which Tiananmen Gate is a part.

Er no.

Have to buy another entrance ticket. The previous entrance ticket was only for Tiananmen Gate not the Forbidden City.

More queuing for a ticket.

Surprisingly, I have to produce my passport and they tap the document ID into their computer.

Another security check.

Setting alarms off as I wander through. But am waved through.

The lolloping giant is clearly not a security threat.

When I last came to the Forbidden City in 1996 it was me and a few others, notwithstanding the minus 10C temperature, and recall that it was a haven of peace of tranquillity.

Yeah. That’s my memory.

Now it’s heaving and full of the chatter of thousands of tourists. Slow going to make your way through the complex with too many tourists tripping over each other and being herded about by tour guides with flags on extendable poles which get in my eyes.

It’s just too busy so merely walk through without enjoying the history, a potted version of which is as follows.

Spread over 178 acres, it was originally built in the early 1400s by Emperor Yongle of the Ming Dynasty and occupied in 1420. Called the Forbidden City as access was restricted to most of the people and had a 3.5km perimeter wall. Was the centre of power for five centuries until the Chinese Revolution in 1911. 16 million people now visit each year.

The stuff you learn on this blog, dear reader.

The north gate leads to Jingshan Park, the former imperial gardens of the Forbidden City. Built on an artificial hill created by the soil excavated from the moat that surrounds the Forbidden City. Yet more huffing and puffing as I wend my way through the forested footpath to the top for more magnificent views of the Forbidden City.

Back down to street level find a pedestrianised shopping street full of Western stores and malls. I could be in any country in the west.

But then.

A proper little Chinese archway with red lanterns hanging from it suggesting what might be the entrance to Chinatown in a western city entices me in. It’s a food market.

But not your M&S type food.

No.

This has live scorpions on sticks ready for deep frying wriggling about (see video below!).

And grubs.

And cockroaches.

And grasshoppers.

And seahorses.

Chuffing seahorses!

On a stick to eat.

Of all things.

Hopefully the food will be better in North Korea.

Which I fly to tomorrow.

And the start of the North Korea trip (and blog) proper.

NK 4. Spring in the Summer Palace

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Tuesday, 11 April 2017

Beijing, China

Receptionist recommends the Summer Palace in the north west of the city. Fortunately able to navigate the metro system with ease as the signs and announcements are also in English. Alight at Beigongmen station for the short walk to the Summer Palace entrance. In need of a pit stop try and enter the luxurious Aman Hotel which looks like an ideal, and clean, spot for pees and teas. They’re not wanting this scruffy tourist in walking boots and open collared shirt in their establishment and am kicked out of the main hotel and ushered around the corner to their café out of the way. They clearly wish to maintain standards in this hotel.

But every cloud has a silver lining and it’s a delightful spot by a large fish pond to have a drink. So nice that I decide to stay a while for an early lunch. An elderly fisherman is throwing bread into the pond to entice the fish with the aim of catching one in his net at the end of a pole, about 12ft long. The fish aren’t biting and he ambles and shuffles to the other side to try there. This time the fish surface and he takes his long pole and stands poised at the water’s edge ready to pounce but keeps missing. If it were me, I’d place the net in the water and then slowly let the fish swim into it. After quite a while, he manages to catch four fish and wonder if they’ll be on the hotel’s restaurant menu tonight.

There’s an air of calmness in the gardens as I have a relaxing lunch soaking up the sun on this bright blue sky day and it’s a bit of a wrench to tear myself away and enter the 200 hectares of park and palaces complex that form the Summer Palace around a large lake. Exceptionally busy with Chinese tourists and once again I stick out like a sore thumb. After visiting the colourful and ornate 3 level Grand Theatre, it’s the covered walkway which runs for 750m from theatre to the main palace.

As I walk through the walkway I’m towering over everybody and can hear lots of hellos from the girls as they walk past giggling at the giant.

Something I’ve gotten used to.

Sniff.

Halfway along the walkway is a pagoda high up on a hill which requires investigation. More huffing and puffing from the Englishman as I climb the steep steps. What is it with these ancient Chinese and steep steps?! Once at the pagoda, thinking I’ve made it to the top realise I’m only half way up. More huffing and puffing to the summit but a cracking view from the top. Not a cloud in the sky, no smog, haze or anything. A beautiful spring day.

Returning to lake level discover a large marble boat in the water. Obviously not floating. It’s a serene sail under ornate stone bridges on a boat that floats to the quirky Szuzhou Street. Built in the 18th century as a place where Emperors and guests could feel as if they were strolling a commercial street.

But without the riff raff.

The path is about 2ft wide with shops on one side and a 5ft vertical drop to the water below on the other with no barriers or anything to prevent you falling if you trip over. Very picturesque but watch my step. Late afternoon as I leave this peaceful and very enjoyable park. A good recommendation by the receptionist.

Facetime a very old friend (as in longevity not age…ahem…you know who you are) who is just waking up in the UK. Clearly still in a state of torpor she doesn’t realise I’m in Beijing despite being told I was going just a few weeks ago over dinner. Early retirement clearly taking its toll on her memory…

She’ll be reading this now and wondering ‘Does he mean me?’

Yes.

NK 3. The hutongs

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Monday, 10 April 2017

Beijing, China

I remember driving through some hutongs (a series of narrow alleyways and roads with shops and housing) in 1996 and it was all a bit basic and back street but full of character. So you can imagine my disappointment to find that the entrance to the hutongs I visit today have a brand new shiny entrance and they’re all refurbished and quite clean.

The spring blossom lining the river is very vibrant and soon find the main pedestrianised thoroughfare. Like Doha’s souqs it has that sense of newness about it and full of designer shops and cafes with free wifi. How times have changed. This is not what I’m after. I’m after the old and characterful hutongs.

Meander down a side road and find a small café for a drink and sit down outside. Owner comes out and measures her height against mine. She just about reaches my hips. She giggles and then disappears. It’s only after an hour of wandering about and getting away from the main thoroughfare that I find what I’m looking for. The real grubby backstreet hutongs. This is the China I remember. Men playing cards and gambling in the alleyways. Two birds in an ornate cage by the door. Surprisingly, they let me take their photo. Last time I came here it was a big no no as they thought you were taking away their spirit. There’s an air of stillness and calmness in the alleyways which is quite relaxing and reminds me of the alleyways in Busan, South Korea. There’s plenty of food stalls and small industries with people cutting, tapping and banging in various workshops. It’s great. I love this sort of off-piste wandering.

I can assure you dear reader, there was a lot of huffing and puffing climbing the very steep staircase to the top of the Bell & Drum Towers. But the views across Beijing are worth it. Especially along the north-south axis towards Jingshan Park, which sits on a slight rise overlooking the Forbidden City.

The 13th century Bell and Drum Towers used to announce the time in Beijing until as recently as 1924. The 7m high, 3.4m diameter bell was cast in the 14/15th century during the reign of Emperor Yongle of the Ming Dynasty. The thickness of the bell ranges from 12cm to 24cm and it weighs 63 tons. You wouldn’t want to be nearby when it rings.

The trouble with travelling on the Beijing Metro is that the signage is installed at a height of 6’2”. Being 6’5” this poses a problem and narrowly avoid slashing my forehead on day one.

NK 2. Back in Beijing

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Sunday, 9 April 2017

Beijing, China

Having already experienced a VIP transfer in Bangkok arranged through the hotel a few years previously, have also booked the same for Beijing. Greeted at the aircraft door by a beautiful young Chinese girl with a placard with my name on.

She whisks me through Beijing airport security and customs fast track lanes and down a side door to a waiting BMW 7 series in the private VIP entrance before whizzing through the traffic in air-conditioned comfort to downtown.

Could get used to this rock star treatment.

Arrive at the Four Seasons Beijng (www.fourseasons.com/beijing/). Doors are opened as car stops. Hotel Manager greets me at car door, hands me her business card and escorts me to the lift with the Assistant Hotel Manager who then escorts me to the 25th floor Executive Floor and in to my room for check in.

Was on an aircraft less than an hour ago.

This is the way to travel.

Assistant Manager asks me what I’m doing in Beijing. Explain I’m in transit to North Korea.

Later chat with the Executive Floor receptionist who asks the same question and again the response is ‘I’m in transit to North Korea.’ To which she exclaims, ‘Ah, Mr Taurean!’. Tell her she’s well informed and she responds with ‘I have my sources!’.

I was last in Beijing in 1996. A lot has changed.

Flashy new metro train to Tiananmen Square, having gone through full airport style X-ray security at the metro station to get on the underground train. Hope we don’t have that rigmarole in Europe anytime soon!

Eventually surface at Tiananmen Square and soon greeted by three young Chinese girls who are kindergarten teachers from the north east, near the border with Russia. They want to practice their English and ask if I would like to have a coffee and chat with them.

Ooer.

I’ve been picked up already.

Sorry ladies. This Englishman is a bit jet lagged and bordering on being a grumpy little ogre due to lack of sleep and needs to be left alone. They’re actually a bit miffed and clear off in a huff.

Long, long queues to pass through yet more security and x-ray checkpoint to enter the massive expanse of Tiananmen Square. When I came in 1996, there was none of this and you could come and go as you pleased.

21 years ago I remember a lot of people walking about in Mao style uniforms and lots of bicycles. So different now. Much more western styles and a lot more cars.

Stand in Tiananmen Square taking photos as I did 21 years ago. Back then, in 1996, it was minus 10C and I was THE tourist attraction on account of being tall and blond and a rare westerner. Back then I was there for half an hour having my photo taken with local families as I was such an ‘oddity’ (no sniggering!).

It happens again and a young lad asks if he can have his photo with me. Which starts other locals asking the same. At 6’5” am standing out a bit.

Dinner in the hotel for a quick pizza. All I want is some carbs, a beer and then bed for much needed sleep.

Have asked for a pizza with a tomato base as extra (not a pizza without a tomato base is it I hear you say). Arrives without a tomato base. Waitress soon realises the error of her ways. Tell her it’s OK and start scoffing as now hungry and just want to eat and go to sleep. Jetlagged as I am. Halfway through the pizza am told to stop. Chef has done another pizza with a tomato base and it’s on its way.

Flipping ‘eck.

Now have two pizzas before me. One with a tomato base and a half eaten one without a tomato base.

Well, that just means I’ll have to have another glass of wine.

Doesn’t it.