Travel

POZNAN, POLAND to WARSAW, POLAND
Travel within Poland and feel free to take your laptop and pens with you, just like you did in the good old days. Gel and water are naturally very dangerous and forbidden. You will not have to remove your shoes. Your child is not viewed as a potential terrorist.
WARSAW, POLAND to LONDON HEATHROW
Traveling from Poland to the UK is now a Category VII Pain In The Ass. This is a result of Poland’s Operation Over-React To Everything.
In a country that is 99.9999998% White-Polish-Catholic it seems strange that they would ban all hand luggage on trips from Poland to the UK. I say “strange” mainly because:
1. There was no known terrorist threat from Poland to the UK.
2. The four Middle Eastern people who live in Poland would stick out like a black guy in Bydgoszcz.
One would think that common sense might apply here, but part of Operation Over-React To Everything is to consider everyone a suspect. That includes the old lady who was behind me, and my blonde-haired, blue-eyed 2-year old son.

Melts in your mouth, not your Semtex.
Naturally my son’s M&Ms were not allowed. These small, delicious candies are a dangerous provocation considering they could very well be sugar-coated nuggets of plastic explosive. Assuming my son was recruited by the Wiggles to be an Al Qaeda member, those candies could be pieced together to form an explosive capable of singeing the upholstery on our proletariat-class seat.
Also a no-go: his pretzel sticks. Let’s not forget how much pretzel sticks resemble TNT. Even when small, salty and edible.

Let’s stop this Caca.
When the security personnel informed us that my son’s beloved Caca the Duck would not be allowed, this presented a significant potential problem: The next 21 hours would be sheer hell. He is as attached to his floppy, non-explosive cloth duck as baseball is to steroids. My wife, being clever and speaking Polish as a native, told the security personnel they could try and pry Caca from the child’s hands but we would not be assisting them. The security personnel then conferred over Caca. I’m happy to report they agreed to let my suspicious toddler on board the aircraft with his potentially lethal security ducklet thus sparing us, and all passengers, hours of waterworks. Caca 1 Bullshit 0.
My wife was asked to taste the contents of the boy’s bottle. Fortunately the contents were water and not breast milk – which would have been creepy for her to be tasting. The security personnel paid absolutely no attention to her sip anyway, so it could just as well have been gasoline or Gatorade.
Once we were seated aboard the plane I watched a neighbor produce a very-forbidden cell phone he had managed to smuggle. Fortunately he was not Al Qaeda – as all of Poland isn’t – otherwise he’d have been able to make a forbidden phone call.
The fact that he had a telephone on board whilst our pretzels and M&Ms stayed back in Warsaw made it fairly obvious that Operation Over-React To Everything wasn’t working very well. I came to this conclusion during the book-liquid-magazine-gel-laptop-snack-free two and a half hours it took to get to London.
LONDON, HEATHROW to NEW YORK, NEW YORK
Surprisingly, what should have been the most troublesome leg of the journey was the easiest. Three hours prior to departure Virgin’s check-in was wide open. Aside from a few size restrictions, one carry-on per person was allowed. And though you had to remove your shoes at security you could still bring your laptop. Your book. Your Caca the Duck. It was almost like old times, though had I tried to bring toothpaste I’d no doubt be labeled as a ne’er-do-well.
We watched in amazement as someone – a complete moron who doesn’t watch news – witnessed the confiscation of all the bottles of spices he chose to carry on rather than pack. A lady in a burqa was given extra scrutiny, as I’d expect I’d have been if I showed up at the airport peering through a comforter.
At the gate was a second security check – for some folks. Though it did have an element of randomness to it there was some obvious profiling going on when an a gate agent called off a list of names to come talk to him – and they were all Mohammed al-this and Abdul al-that. In the hall a plainclothes security agent produced a badge and did an on-the-spot passport check of a Middle-Eastern guy. Hey, them’s the times.
Overall traveling kind of blows. But it could be worse. And will be worse when they develop an explosive Caca.

The Glenn Beck show brought me to Indiana, an adventure which airs tonight and tomorrow.
INTRODUCTION
Fort Wayne has the only airport where I was handed a cookie after debarking. There were no strings attached to the cookie. It was just a free cookie given to me by a nice old lady who didn’t try and lecture me about Jesus or ask for donations. I wish more airports would give me cookies, even if I wind up not eating them because I don’t know the nice old lady.
SIZE
Fort Wayne is not listed in the National Registry of Big Places because it is not big. I think I could have met everyone if I had a few more days and a moped.
DOWNTOWN
You can walk around Fort Wayne’s downtown in about eight minutes. A little longer if you stop to take in the statue.
HISTORY
Fort Wayne was once called Miami Town after the Miami Indians who were inexplicably up in Indiana instead of down in Miami.
MACEDONIAN HISTORY
If you’re into Macedonia, there’s a Macedonian Museum. Why? I don’t know. But Macedonians probably have a rich and vibrant culture, yadda yadda, so go and check it out the next time you’re drugged at a truck stop in Waco and wake up in Fort Wayne.
CELEBRITIES
Fort Wayne is the birthplace of Shelly Long, who should never have left Cheers.
LEGENDS
Johnny Appleseed rose to fame by hurling fruit at people, so it’s fitting that he’s possibly buried under a golf course.
ENGLISH
People in Fort Wayne speak much better than the average New Yorker. And they lack silly accents. If I had my druthers I’d send my son to schools in Fort Wayne, but then I’d have to live here and I don’t know how to harvest.
GENEALOGY MUSEUM
I don’t know why, but Fort Wayne has the second largest genealogy museum in the world. The largest is in Utah, which has creepy alcohol laws. So, if you want to know more about your grandpa but you love beer, use this one.
DISPOSITIONS
Everyone seems very nice in Fort Wayne. They say “excuse me” when appropriate and hold doors and everything. Probably because they’re all well-rested since last call was at 10:45.
THE MEXICANS AT THE PAINT STORE
My shuttle driver said the Mexicans at the paint store should learn some English because “it’s really annoying.”
GROUND ZERO
The nice taxi driver wanted to know if we’d be building anything at Ground Zero anytime soon. I told him it was a done deal as soon as the Lower Manhattan Development Corporation, Governor Pataki, Mayor Bloomberg, the architects, 9/11 families, firemen, policemen and my asthmatic friend Pete all reach an agreement.
SPEAKING OF TAXIS
Taxis do not smell of urine here, and there is no partition where you’d like your legs to go, which is great. Taxi drivers communicate in very understandable English rather than grunts, which is also great. Then they charge you $24 plus a $2 “gas surcharge” for the eight minute ride from the airport, which is not so great – but is mitigated by the euphoria you feel having received a free cookie at the airport.
QUALITY OF LIFE
Life in the Midwest is far more relaxed and comfortable than in New York. The trade-off is fewer restaurants and a greater risk of silo fires.

Las Vegas is filled with morbidly obese people milling about extravagant billion-dollar casinos, in complete denial of the fact that the extravagant billion-dollar casinos they’re milling about were built with money from morbidly obese people.
What separates the horrendous, low class crowd here from the horrendous, low class crowd at Disneyworld? Greed. At least I have to assume that’s why they’re here. Certainly it’s not to see Carrot Top or Rita Rudner.
In case you’ve never heard of Danny Gans, he’s HUGE in Vegas. He’s the best! Danny Gans! Danny Gans!
Las Vegas has changed a lot over the years. It’s no longer a mob-controlled adult play-land. Now it’s a corporate, family-friendly place where no one bats an eyelid when some schmuck pushes his kid’s stroller through the craps tables at 1 a.m. I’m not sure what they call Family Services folks here, but they’re probably busy playing Keno anyway.
Just like the U.S. in 1958, or France now, you can smoke anywhere you feel like and nobody says a thing. No freaky old lady screams “cancer!” at you, and no one hacks and waves frantically to let you know they’re offended by your smoke. But freedom isn’t free. The price? Whatever’s in your wallet.
Careers never die in Vegas! If you’re done in the rest of the country you can come here and pretend it’s still going strong. And if you want, you can make money just emulating dead performers. A lot of shows are short on plot, tall on nipple. So, good news for naked girls: you’re hired!
You can order whores according to the mobile billboard for “Hot Babes Direct” that I saw. Though frankly the model had cankles, so maybe there’s a “Hotter Babes Direct.” Maybe epinions.com has whoremonger ratings.
Las Vegas is all about excess and being wild. It’s the only place I’ve been where someone offered to swap wives with me. I’ll pass for now, but thanks for the awkward discourse! Your lady was hot too, but since she passed out three minutes after the offer I’m thinking I’d have gotten the short end of the stick.
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but the 400-pound woman perched in front of a slot machine, oozing bum-flesh off her stool as she balanced a cocktail and cigarette in one hand and robotically tugged the slot arm with the other… that’s still with me.
Non-theme casinos are dinosaurs now. If you don’t have a theme, you’re doomed. People want to lose their money in a replica of some place that they won’t have the money to travel to. For example:
PARIS – For those who’ve never been to France but wanted to know what a lousy, overpriced croissant tastes like in a venue that’s as French as Akira Kurosawa, this is the place.
EXCALIBUR – What folks thought the 1200s were like in the 1970s.
MANDALAY BAY – It’s tropical, because they have parrots.
WYNN – It’s the opposite of what happens to you when you’re there but it’s technically not false advertising because it’s named after Vegas mogul Steve Wynn.
LUXOR – Like going to Egypt, but without the fear of Jamaat al-Islamyya gunning you down.
HOOTERS – Breasts.
NEW YORK NEW YORK – Very much like New York, if New York was a mediocre casino that let Rita Rudner not entertain audiences.
HARD ROCK CAFÉ – This is where the young and hip crowd goes. Which is why I’ll avoid it like chicken herpes.
STRATOSPHERE – The theme? It’s tall. It has rides at the very top that you can try as soon as the four crew members can connect the security restraints around the two 380-pound women ahead of you.
VENETIAN – The canals of Venice are recreated here, minus the raw sewage and ass-pinching Italian men.
IMPERIAL PALACE – An Asian-themed hotel whose late owner threw parties on Hitler’s birthday in the secret Nazi memorabilia room. Actually, maybe the theme is Axis powers. Or jackass.
BELLAGIO – It’s Italian for rich people place.
CAESAR’S PALACE – Outside of a frat party, one of the few places where you can see adults in togas.
TREASURE ISLAND – What do pirates do? They kill you and take your money. Let’s use that theme for a casino!
HELPFUL GAMBLING TIPS:
Rich Young Yuppie Guy told me the best bet in craps is the “odds bet.” After following his lead I doubled my money, so maybe he was right. Too bad I had to leave for the airport eight minutes later.
If you’re married to a strong-willed lady, have her come snatch 50% of every winning hand. At the end of the evening when you’re out of money she’ll open her purse and show you all the chips she didn’t let you lose, and you’ll realize she’s smarter than you are.
Don’t gamble. Who do you think paid for Steve Wynn’s jet?

I had absolutely no interest in going to China. I went there solely because it was the only place my Virgin miles could get us during the timeframe we had. I was frightened about going, probably because I read books like Hegemon and The China Threat. I was so worried I wouldn’t be coming back that I prepared three copies of a half-ass Will and left them in my sock drawer, just in case.
But the trip was remarkable. China had me at hello, which is ni hao in certain areas. I’m a changed man. If you get in front of me on the sidewalk now I will brush past you and not apologize – as if we lived in an incredibly over-populated city. I’m more daring crossing the street – as if we can afford to lose some folks here and there. And I have a new appreciation for Chinese food, just not the freakish menu items like goose head medley and zesty goat stomach.
I ate a bird’s nest and made a bird somewhere in China homeless. But he got me back because a nice Chinese girl here in New York told me that the bird makes his nest by regurgitating, not with saliva as the waiter had said. So I ate a bird-barf house. Color me cultured. Thank you China.

ASPARAGUS
China has the best asparagus I’ve ever had. How good is their asparagus? So good that I’m still thinking about it and telling people. Our asparagus is stringy and tough. Shame on America’s asparagus farmers. We can do better. Maybe non-stringy asparagus is a mission we can actually accomplish.

BAR
Bar is great. You feel welcome from the very moment you see the Christmas decorations on April 13th. Plus, they are the best! You can drink whatever you want – as long as it’s Tsing Tao beer or Mao rocket fuel. Pack your wallet though – there’s a 20 RNB ($2.50) minimum.
WINE
China’s wine industry has a long way to go. Fortunately Australia is not too far away and makes wine you can drink.

GIGANTIC PIG TESTICLES
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What are they selling, and why haven’t they used a pirated version of Photoshop on this thing?
REGULATIONS
America, which is over-regulated, seems even more so after China. I can’t imagine explaining to a guy hacking a chicken on the back deck of a decrepit tour boat that we make the Syrian deli guy wear plastic gloves when he slices our bagel. They’d laugh and laugh and laugh at us as they washed the hacked chicken in polluted river water.
In fact, their total disregard for dirt and germs makes me wonder if they aren’t developing a superhuman immunity. Meanwhile, I panic when I touch the milk thermos at Starbucks.

LONGDONG AVENUE
We rode by Longdong Avenue. For a brief moment I contemplated moving my family to China just so I could tell people we lived on Longdong Avenue. It was a simple, base joke and I figured I could get some mileage out of it. But I was wrong. In short order we’d be tired of living on Longdong. Maybe we’d move to Pudong after that.

RANDOM FIREWORKS DISPLAYS
I like China because you can set off enormous fireworks next to an outdoor café, for no apparent reason. Perhaps he was celebrating brunch.
HOMELESS AMERICAN TWENTY-SOMETHINGS
I have new contempt for “homeless” able-bodied 22 year old Americans sitting near Union Square with their dogs, $7/pack cigarette habit and multiple piercings. When you see a homeless guy in China – he’s homeless and covered in filth. And when you compare some skateboarder who wants money for beer with a guy who has no arms and is sitting with his feet cradled around the only bowl he owns – skate dude loses. I think we should ship them to China for a bit to see some real poverty. And maybe eat some bamboo worms sautéed in garlic if they’re truly hungry.
BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY
China has 300 million bicycles and seven reflectors.

BULLHORNS
Asians love bullhorns according to an Asian tour guide. And who wouldn’t love 12-20 tour groups touring a museum with 12-20 tour guides barking history into 12-20 bullhorns in 12-20 languages? Paradise.
But it doesn’t have to be tour groups. Imagine an outdoor market where every vendor has a bullhorn with a recorded, incomprehensible message set to “auto-repeat.” Actually, don’t imagine it – just go to an outdoor market.

THE VOLKSWAGEN SANTANA
I don’t need a car, because I live in Big City, but if I were in the market for one I would definitely test out the Volkswagen Santana and perhaps the Toyota Morrissey. I’d avoid the Fiat Lachey because of its spotty performance record.
SAFETY
In America we try and make everything idiot-proof, and while we’re well-meaning we always ruin everything. If we owned the Great Wall it would have railings and barricades and traction pads on the worn stone steps and wheelchair access ramps and Braille plaques and toilet facilities and signs saying “Danger!” every thirty feet lest we forget we’re on an ancient wall.
China’s attitude? Here’s the Great Wall. You fall off… eh. At least you got to see it for a bit.
I like that.

INTERNET SNACK
I think the Internet Snack folks really know their demographic well: A fat, lonely guy who longs for a hot medieval girl and is willing to eat ‘at’ symbols.
THE PEOPLE
I met a variety of Chinese people and most were exceedingly friendly. They sometimes took pictures of us and made us feel special. When I took pictures of them back, they panicked and ran away like this lady:

I’ve never had a harder time trying to communicate in my life, though I like to think I’m pretty good with languages. I think they appreciated me trying to speak theirs, even if they only understood 8% of what I was trying to say. At the very least I entertained them by saying You’re welcome when I meant No thanks.
Though I tried to talk politics, I only got straight answers from one citizen, who China’s government might consider an enemy of the state. He was still sad about the Tiananmen Square uprising he was part of. And he called Mao a dumb peasant who filled the government with other dumb peasants who pretty much ruined everything. He also thinks America is too bossy.
Chinese beggars are a little too aggressive for my liking. Lots of touching with the filthy hands and not taking no for an answer.

THE EIRE ALARM
If the Irish had seen this they might have seen Cromwell coming. Now it’s only used when Sinead’s entourage enters the pub.

SILK
Did you know they make silk by boiling moths alive in their cocoons? PETA? Are you there? PETI, maybe? Anyway, next time you’re wearing silk, remember the nasty silk-making process.

THE ATLANTA CELTICS
The Atlanta Celtics bring up a lot of fond memories of other things that don’t exist, like Nacho Pimp Doritos and Vice President Baggins.

COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT, PART XXIII
Someone tell KFC that Colonel Sanders was ripped off. Perhaps this is General Tso.
THE FUTURE
There’s a lot of talk about China being the next superpower but my uneducated opinion is not right now. There’s an excellent observation by Boris Johnson in the UK Spectator which sums things up quite nicely.
FIN
I have received several emails from people thanking me and saying they’d never go to China because of my observations. That was not my intention. First of all, traveling is a great education, so not traveling is like dropping out of school or going to Apex Technical on 6th Avenue.
China was one of my most memorable trips – and I’ve been on several memorable trips: I accidentally stumbled into an Austrian bordello to call home; I watched my brother impale his feet on the fence at St. Stephen’s Green in Dublin; I spent my entire time in former Czechoslovakia holed up with some girl from Vancouver I’d met on the train.
So, you should go to China because it’s interesting, has a lot more history than Tulsa, and you’ll be hard-pressed to find a bird-barf entrée here in the States. Their government is a little creepy, sure, but their folks are quite nice, the prices are great, the sights are amazing, and the food is fantastic when it’s not a Twilight Zone episode.
They’re destroying and paving everything for the 2008 Olympics, so now’s the time to see stuff before it gets all dolled up.
I’ll definitely be back. Unless they all come here first.
RECOMMENDED
With guidance such as “avoid the toilets like you would an evening with Steven Seagal” the Luxe Guides won my heart. They’re witty must-have guides which introduced us to many things and places we’d never have known about. And they conveniently fit in your back pocket.

At $18.90, DK’s Eyewitness Guides are priceless:

And this was helpful when looking for phrases like “Get the hell away from me”:

If ever you have a hankering for an $18 Breitling watch or $9 Prada bag, Xiangyang Market is the place to shop. It’s paradise for the label-conscious – a counterfeit Shangri-La which ironically lessens the significance of the very designer labels you seek by selling variable quality knock-offs of them for pennies.
You should hurry there though. Due to pressure from the West and a regular elbowing in the ribs by the World Trade Organization, the Chinese authorities have vowed to close this monument to copyright infringement, though no doubt it will exist in some form somewhere. In a country where most people eke out a meager living through back-breaking manual labor, selling some Western boob a knock-off Rolex at 600% markup is simply too enticing an alternative. In the meantime, the market operates in full view of the police who mill about the area.
Xiangyang is a collection of stalls surrounded by buildings, assembled in an area the size of a football field. Even before you get to the market itself people know why you’re in the neighborhood. On average, two to four of them will gather outside your taxi before you’ve even exited – all of them bearing well-worn, laminated catalogs filled with pictures of watches, handbags, luggage, shoes and clothing.
Once you make your way to the actual market grounds, you’ll realize the aggressive vendors who’d followed you from the taxi were simply an appetizer.
Hallo? Sir! Watch? Rolex? What you need? Hallo? Come look. Sir? Hallo?
Eye contact means a conversation, so avoid it whenever possible. Likewise, avoid replying to Hallo? DVD? Watch? Gucci? with “I’m ok, thanks” as the vendor only hears the “ok” part and thinks you’re interested. If you’re a linguist like I am, you can walk around saying “You’re welcome” in Mandarin – all the while thinking you were saying “No thank you.”
There are dozens and dozens and dozens of stalls, all of which share the same layout and sell the same goods. For the most part Xiangyang is about clothes, watches and handbags. And shoes. And golf clubs. And toys. And scarves. And lighters. And souvenirs. And sunglasses. And jewelry.
All the labels are represented: Prada, Gucci, Mont Blanc, Chanel, Dior, Luis Vuitton, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, Fendi, Ferragamo, Victorinox, Hermes, Oakley, Nike, Balenciaga, Calvin Klein, Armani, North Face, Boss, Tiffany, Coach… even Gap.
Why you’d buy a counterfeit Gap anything is your own problem. Honey, this Gap shirt would have been $8 in the States!
As you travel from stall to stall you’ll be asked if you want DVDs, watches, bags, shoes. If you say no, you’ll be asked if you want DVDs, watches, bags, shoes. If you ignore them you’ll be asked if you want DVDs, watches, bags, shoes. How you handle that is up to you, but a policy of non-engagement will get you around faster.
BUYING SOMETHING
At some point you’ll be inclined to make a purchase. This is a frightening prospect as it introduces you to the world of haggling. Haggling is not something Westerners are particularly good at for two reasons: One, it’s a muscle we seldom use unless buying a house or car. Two, when you find yourself verbally wrestling with a little Chinese lady over the equivalent of 30 cents, you feel like a chump.
That said, it’s all about principle: They’re trying to rip you off, and the bidding usually starts 600-700% higher than what they’ll take for it. You should forget that the difference is sometimes miniscule in terms of dollars and think instead of the percentage of markup, and how shamed you should feel to pay six times something’s value. This is when it’s helpful to be married to someone who grew up in a Warsaw Pact state and is keen to fight to the last nickel.
Download a very short film script.
THE CALCULATOR
The calculator is the main form of communication here. The merchant will type in his/her price. You will balk and type in your price. He/she will balk and type in another price. This goes back and forth until you do what you should always do: leave. When you leave, they will come after you, drag you back and have you enter your “final price.” You will type it into the calculator and they will balk at it and enter another price. And so on and so forth.
HAGGLING COMEDY
It’s hard to make Chinese people laugh, because I am not funny in Chinese, or China. I soon learned that satire and esoteric humor don’t work here – possibly because satire will get you 10 years in prison.
What does work? Making a counter-offer of 1 Yuan in response to the merchant’s price of 700. Once he realized I was joking, we laughed and laughed.
But minutes later he was holding my arm and begging me not to leave.
THE WALK-OUT
The walk-out is part of the haggle-dance, and you must be prepared to do it every time you want to purchase something. It lets the merchant know you mean business, and that you’re willing to start haggling all over again at another stall just to get another knock-off Prada shoulder bag you don’t really need.
They will chase after you. If you don’t, that’s how you know your offer was in the right neighborhood. But they always come after you because they make this stuff for nothing.
THE PRADA & GABBANA DRESS
The label is more important than the actual dress of course, which is why you’ll see a D&G dress in one stall and the same dress with Prada tags next door. So, if you like the style of the dress you can then decide which designer you’d like people to think you bought it from.
CERCIFTATTE OF UNIQUETICITY
For some real entertainment read the labels that – despite all the evidence to the contrary – suggest the garment/bag/watch you’re buying is authentic. “This label is to certain the genuine article of Burberry…”
Occasional details betray the not-so-legitness of your genuine article, such as Prada apparently hailing from “Miland” Italy and my classy Breitling being made of “stainess steel.”
QUALITY
Some items are remarkably lousy, while others are amazingly good copies. One tourist’s wife worked at Louis Vuitton and was stunned at the quality of a knock-off handbag. And my $18 Breitling Navitimer makes me look like I was dumb enough to spend $8,000 on a watch. Ditto my $16 Panerai. And my other $18 Breitling. And my other $17 Panerai. And my $17 Patek Phillipe.
Though it was suggested my watches were “best quality” and “waterproof” if I get them wet I will shriek like a young girl covered in fire ants.
DVDs
If you’re not asked to buy DVDs at least 12,000 times during your visit, then you’re not at Xiangyang. It goes something like this:
Hallo? DVD? Big selection!?
No thank you.
How many?
INTEGRITY
Once the price is agreed on, that’s the price. No one ever tried to change the price or deny us change. Hooray for citizens afraid to break the rules!
GLOSSARY
You are very handsome/beautiful – I would very much like you to purchase something from my stall.
Best Quality – The same quality you’ll find at any other stall.
You my first customer. – Perhaps you’ll believe you’re my first customer and out of sympathy pay me way too much for this Mao watch.
Best Price – About 700% markup.
Friend Price – About 600% markup.
Best Friend Price – About 500% markup.
Final Price – The price about halfway through the haggling process.
You must be joking! – So you’re not a total sucker, but I’ll get you.
I make no money, this price! – I’m only making 300% at this price.
You wife… she good. – Your wife has managed to beat me down to where I’m only getting a 150% markup on this.

Flickr photo credits: van der Chijs, jemsweb
Learn how men should haggle.

YANG SHOU
The Guilin ferry eventually drops you off in Yang Shou which is where Jimmy Buffett would live if he were born in a quasi-capitalist, one-party state like China.
If you’re the young English guy who drank the “snake wine” during the cruise, this is the moment when you stagger off the boat and projectile vomit onto the hostess. She will in turn shriek (a universal language, understood by all) and run crying back onto the boat. Welcome to Yang Shou.
You can pronounce Yang Shou anyway you’d like: Yon Shoe, Yong Shoo, Yang Zoo – it doesn’t matter because you won’t pronounce it correctly and will only elicit a Weh?. Fortunately you’re already there.
One thing about Yang Shou is clear: They want your money. From the second you step off the boat you are accosted by vendors. Hallo! Sir? T-Shirt? Postcard? Hallo? It’s like anywhere else in China, but it’s nice and tropical here and the pollution haze is greener because of the lovely mountains.
The vendors all sell the same things and they’re all stationed every four feet – the general theory being you’ll get tired of saying no at some point. Just bear in mind, if you buy something straight off the boat you’ll be marked as an easy target so prepare to spend the next mile being aggressively marketed to.
SHOPPING
The tourist shops in Yang Shou all sell the same things as the shops everywhere else in China – and Chinatown. It’s a haggle-fiesta and everything is negotiable. Anything you buy you will drag back home and then reconsider as in Did my toddler really need a frightening old Chinaman puppet? If you forget to buy something you can find it at Pearl River Mart on Broadway in Manhattan.
BARS
Yang Shou seems to cater to the kind of folks you’d find in Florida: Alcoholics in shorts. The bars all have outdoor seating and large open windows which allow the many beggars to approach you and contribute to your dining experience. We felt right at home as the bar was out of all the good Chinese beers and, like any crap bar in Florida, could only offer Western tinkle brands Heineken and Corona.
This was the only place we’d seen in China that seemed to have people who could actually make cocktails with Western spirits and not their “Mao Tai” rocket fuel.
SNAKE WINE
I’d already eaten a bird’s nest on my journey, declined donkey meat and stared in shock at plates of sautéed bamboo worms and bee larvae. This made me wonder: What does a hungry patron wash all that gorgeous food down with?
The answer? Snake wine.
Snake wine is easy to make. Put live snakes in a bottle of alcohol, seal the bottle, watch them die, let the thing fester in the cellar and open it some day to celebrate a snake wine-worthy occasion, such as the kidnapping of your aunt or losing a toe to cancer.
A Canadian brave enough to have tried it reported that it was “nasty” and I believe him because Canadians don’t lie. And I’ll not forget the Englishman from the boat who speed-barfed on the hostess. Circumstantial evidence, sure, but in the spirit of Guantanamo I’m going to convict the stuff without due process.
Great news for snake lovers: There’s lizard wine – which is just as cruel and vile but made by killing creatures further down the evolutionary chart.
THE MINORITY CAFÉ

A place where you can be free to be whatever the Ku Klux Klan or the British National Party hate. At least, I’m assuming that’s what it is because I never went in.
THE FACE A GUEST SOIL SPECIAL PRODUCT SUPERMARKET

I spent a lot of time trying to determine what this sign was supposed to mean. Then I stopped trying and wept like a gay mullah.
WEST STREET UNDERGROUND DEPANTM STANE

Again, China’s sign-making industry is in need of able-bodied, literate English-speakers willing to work for $2.12 a day.

Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip.

That started in Guilin, China aboard their tourist ships.

The scenery was magical, mountains all around;

But after near-miss 34, I thought we’d crash and drown.

The natives paddled up to us, to sell their souvenirs;

They stood outside the windows. We pretended they weren’t there.

We didn’t eat much lunch that day, after we realized;

They made it on the ship’s back deck… Not so sanitized. Not so sanitized.

Guilin is really gorgeous and the scenery’s the best;

Though most vivid: The English guy who puked on the hostess.

For all your Liv Tyler needs.

When traveling China by rail it’s important to remember one thing which they do not tell you when you buy your train tickets:
Depending on arbitrary enforcement policies, you will need your used tickets to leave the station.
Granted the tickets may say this, but the tickets are in Chinese so it might as well be written in paw prints and coffee stains.
Therefore, when your train arrives at its destination do not leave the tickets on the train or throw them in a trash bin because, as I’ve mentioned, you’ll need them to leave the station. Why? No idea. You’re done with them, but they want them back.
Failure to have your tickets with you will result in significant discomfort, as evidenced by comparing these two scenarios:
Scenario #1:
1. As you approach the station’s exit you hand your tickets to the guard.
2. He lets you leave.
Scenario #2:
1. As you approach the station’s exit you don’t hand your tickets to the guard because you don’t have them.
2. He prevents you from leaving the station.
3. You pantomime throwing the tickets away.
4. He shows you a ticket and pantomimes you giving him a ticket.
5. You pantomime throwing a ticket away.
6. Five thousand Chinese people who have their tickets are behind you, eager to exit the station, and are attempting to do just that by pushing their bodies and baggage through you.
7. The guard talks to you in Chinese and pantomimes you giving him a ticket.
8. You shrug your shoulders and point back towards the distant train.
9. He moves you to the side so the rest of the planet can get through.
10. Instead of taking the tickets from the throngs passing by, the guard engages you in a one-sided Chinese conversation which seems to indicate that he expects to receive tickets from you.
11. Meanwhile, hundreds of people filter past the guard without having their tickets collected because he’s engaged in talking to you – making you realize the whole collection process is pointless and arbitrary anyway.
12. The guard summons a station official who approaches and speaks to you in Chinese. She then speaks to the guard in Chinese. The gist of the conversation seems to be They have no tickets, what do we do now? and the answer seems to be Speak to them in Chinese until they understand.
13. Finally the woman indicates you should follow her which you do by forcing yourself, your wife and your baggage upstream against the tide of 5’6″ humanity exiting the station.
14. The woman continues to speak to you in Chinese (a type of excited mumbling) while you pantomime having no idea what she’s saying. You point to a train schedule to indicate the train you were on. She points towards a distant platform.
15. You again pantomime throwing tickets away.
16. A crowd gathers to watch the Increasingly Frustrated Westerner Show.
17. Eventually you ascertain that you are being told to return to your train and un-throw-away your tickets. After much fuss you determine that the woman is telling you the train in question is still on Platform 2.
18. You run against more swarms of arriving passengers, bolt up a ramp and finally arrive on Platform 2, where your train isn’t.
19. A Chinese gentleman appears and indicates his interest in helping you out of your predicament. After much pantomiming and finger-drawing he understands you were on train Z14. He seems to know where it is. You follow him as he runs down the ramp.
20. You find yourself running up the ramp to Platform 5, where the helpful Chinese man determines the Z14 isn’t. You follow him back down the ramp.
21. You run up the ramp to Platform 6 and recognize the train. Helpful Chinese man talks to you in Chinese – about what you have no idea, as your fluency is just as good as it was fifteen minutes ago. You hunt for the car you were in.
22. When you locate your car the helpful Chinese man explains your predicament to the overseer. She brings you into the train. You enter your compartment and notice the trash can has been emptied and the table cleared.
23. The entire cleaning crew gathers to watch The Panicky American Show as the overseer grills them on whether they saw any tickets. Eventually you come to understand that the cleaning staff claims they saw no tickets.
24. You begin to imagine life in a train station and wonder which platform you and your wife will make your new home in.
25. You frantically rifle through the room explaining that the tickets are gone – and that it doesn’t matter anyway since the guard let hundreds pass through without showing their tickets anyway. No one understands you, and instead enjoys watching you in silence.
26. All hope is lost. Then you discover the tickets in your camera bag.
27. You smack the back of your head to indicate you are a moron. Physical humor works much better than satire in the P.R.C. and they laugh at you. You apologize profusely. Lots of bowing. You back out of the train saying “When will we Germans ever learn? What’s wrong with us Germans? Must we Germans be so silly? Deutschland! Deutschland!”
28. Outside the train the helpful Chinese man indicates he expects to be paid for his services. This is done by rubbing the thumb against the index and middle fingers in the universal money gesture, then tapping those same fingers to the lips, as if eating the money. You roll your eyes and offer 10 RNB. He speaks his first English: “Fifty,” he says. You swear at him, give him 40 and run away.
29. You run all the way back to the exit where your wife has been patiently waiting her fate under the gaze of amused passengers and security personnel.
30. She asks you where the tickets were and you parse your words like Bill Clinton so as not to appear guilty: “I found them in the room” is technically true.
31. You hand the tickets to the guard and he scrutinizes them, obviously looking for a fight. He finally waves you on.
32. You leave the station, bravely cursing at the guard in English.
33. While waiting for a taxi and being touched by aggressive, filthy beggars you come clean to your wife about where the tickets were. You hear “Don’t talk to me” for approximately 90 minutes.

XI’AN
So basically you’re the Emperor and you’re obsessed with death, so you build an enormous army of terra cotta soldiers to defend you in the next world. Granted, there’s no proof there’s a next world, much less the ability to transform terra cotta into some supernatural bodyguard force, but what the heck. You’re the Emperor. You get to do what you want and you can have hot concubines and your wife can’t complain.
And the next time you think your boss sucks, imagine working to build a tomb for a guy who has you killed when it’s completed. What’s the incentive to finish on time? No wonder it took 36 years.
And the concubines? Buried alive with the dead Emperor. So the wife gets her revenge, as they always do.
But the Terra Cotta Army is impressive. Really, really so. Thousands and thousands of grinning soldiers with weapons and armor and individual details for every single one of them. They’re life-size too, though they seem smaller because 2,200 years ago people were smaller. And anyway, they’re Chinese.
The whole necropolis was discovered some 30 years ago by a farmer digging a well. Now it’s one of China’s prized historical sites. As a result they decimated the area, paved it with concrete, topped it with a museum and shelters for the excavations, and built a gimungous parking complex to accommodate the eleventy-billion tour buses that come daily.
Upon arrival our driver tells us “No hire guide. Uh, lie.” And lie they do. They’re licensed by the Communist Party, and they’re trained to talk about how awesome Chinese history is. “We were plating swords with chromium 2,000 years before the Americans and Germans!” gloats one official plaque in the museum. Whoop-de-doo. Two thousand years later, we’re using Google – uncensored. You can have the glorious chromium.

MARKETING
At some point you’ll tire of looking at thousands of terra cotta soldiers – impressive as it all is – and you’ll want to leave. Can you leave the way you came? No. You need to be directed to the Gauntlet of Aggressive Souvenir Peddlers.
The G.A.S.P. is the roundabout route to the parking lot that corrals thousands of poor tourists into a channel about ten feet wide. The distance between you and the parking lot is about half a mile, and that entire distance is filled with people who want you to purchase terra cotta figurines, postcards, chopsticks, guide books, tea sets, bracelets, necklaces and other items. The logic is thus: Ask a man once, he may say no. Ask a man three thousand times, and perhaps he wants your ceramically-challenged tea set.
Hallo! [insert product name] Good price! Hallo! Sir! [insert product name]! Lookee! Yes?
You’re like a lacerated hemophiliac in a gnat factory. They just keep coming. They don’t take no for an answer even if you can pronounce it the right way – which you can’t. Stay strong. One by one you’ll watch your comrades fall by the wayside. Christ! Okay! Give me the figurines. How much? But don’t be the one to give in. That’s why they keep trying. They know it works on the bulk of the tourists who are willing to spend $2 for five feet of silence. All you’re doing is making it worse for someone else.
SIGNAGE
Throughout our visit, one thing has become obvious: signage is futile. No one pays attention to signs. No one enforces them. The “No Flash” signs go unheeded as the Terra Cotta Army is lit up like a boobs-out Tara Reid stumbling down the red carpet.
SIGNAGE II
Another thing. China needs an English proofreader. They have 1.3 billion people – someone has to have a grasp on translating. They have a very beautiful and ornate language that has issues when you try and convert it to English. From menus in places that serve donkey meat to official signs in official places, it’s as if they simply stuffed our alphabet into a blunderbuss and fired it at the wall. That’s why the airport art gallery is Famous Person’s Calligraphy And Painting Room Of Air Harbor. And why my son has a t-shirt that says Constant Y’Ador – Successive Weh? Weh?
If you’ll excuse me, I have to throw my shrimp chips wrapper in the “Unrecycle” bin.

Is it still copyright infringement if you get the name of the company wrong?

BEIJING
If Shanghai is the New York of China, Beijing is its Washington, DC – right down to the very visible police and military presence, the manicured and well-planned streets and the official buildings. There’s a lot more Mao here.
It’s a different feel than Shanghai – the traffic is more orderly. The buildings are not as vibrant. The sights are more official.
And there are sandstorms.
The sandstorm is one of the downsides of overpopulation and unchecked industrial development. Winds come down from Mongolia, through what was once forest. Apparently forest acts as an air filter of sorts, and when it’s not there: sandstorm. 300,000 tons of dust fell on Beijing on our first day there – more than any Sharper Image Ionic Breeze could ever handle. People wore surgical masks. We laughed and laughed at them then coughed and coughed and coughed.
There is a store named “Herbal Heaven” that sells only handbags.
PEOPLE
The people are pretty much the same in Beijing as they are in Shanghai, but they have a different dialect and I might as well give up trying to speak Mandarin because it’s hopeless. The slightest variation in tone and you get Weh? Weh? Weh? On the bright side, even the Chinese can’t comprehend each other’s dialects.
As an example of how the dialects work: In Boston you’d say “about” but in Toronto you’d say “aboot.” You know what the other person means. In China the guy from Shanghai says “about” and in Beijing he says “lederhosen.” Then the other one says Weh? Weh? and you call it a day.
HUTONGS
The hutong is a neighborhood comprised of a network of winding alleys connecting crowded courtyard homes with no plumbing to unregulated restaurants and tiny shops. The courtyard homes were nice a hundred years ago when they had courtyards but overpopulation caused folks to build homes inside the courtyards. So you have a house within a house, no plumbing, people coming out of the woodwork, and everything is filthy and decaying. It’s an interesting stroll though as people spend their whole lives in these places, presumably because they can’t find the exit. Unlike a Haitian shanty-town the hutong is quite safe to walk through because crime is deterred by the government’s We’ll Kill You If You Commit Crime policy. As part of the pre-Beijing Olympics de-shitification program the city is slowly eliminating these historic neighborhoods and relocating folks to gigantic apartment towers elsewhere, so hurry.
SUMMER PALACE
The Summer Palace is where the Emperor used to hang out during one of the seasons. Probably summer.
The Summer Palace is impressive as it sits on a hill by a large lake with a very beautiful old building covered in very recent scaffolding. One of the problems when visiting China pre-Beijing 2008 Olympics is that it’s pre-Beijing 2008 Olympics. They’re remodeling everything so as to make a great impression on the world community, current tourists be damned.
As can be expected, you will be hounded by souvenir peddlers most of your walk. Hallo! Mister? Postcard? Nice price! It’s a long walk, and at the end you’ll see a marble boat. After being accosted by more souvenir vendors you can have a photo taken in traditional Emperor/ess garb for not much money, and then you have your annual Christmas card photo taken care of.
FORBIDDEN CITY
The Forbidden City is deceptively huge, and entered just under a portrait of Chairman Mao. Don’t mind that he killed 70 million people and makes Hitler look as harmless as Frankie Muniz. Just smile and walk through the gates.
Lots of walking and looking. At some point you will be funneled into a small gate. Chinese people will be freaking out and pushing you so that they can rub their hands on a red box or something – most likely for good luck or wealth. Don’t mind them, just stay to the other side or they’ll trample you to death.
If you see the guy selling the charcoal portrait of Mao, Bush and Putin please ask him what the hell he was thinking when he came up with that trio.
LIQUN ROAST DUCK
The Underground City was the government’s network of secret tunnels designed to spirit the important folks out of the city if things got ugly. If you go looking for it, remember it was secret and it’s hard to find. It’s in a hutong somewhere. If you’re like us you won’t find it, but you’ll find yourself seeing spray-painted signs for “LiQun Roast Duck” everywhere. So, if you give up on Underground City, follow the trillions of hand-scrawled signs for LiQun and maybe you can see a chef blowing a duck up like a balloon – and get yourself some delicious Hepatitis.
TIEN AN’MEN
Hey, you know, a lot of people died here. Their crime – they wanted more than a one-party communistic state. The only person who acknowledged that was a Chinese friend of ours who lived through the 1989 massacre and had no shortage of ill feeling towards Deng Xiao Peng or Mao. Most Chinese seem to want to ignore the awkwardness of the whole thing – like a parent who sends their kid to sleep over Michael Jackson’s house.
Rather than fight the throngs to view Mao’s preserved body in the Mao-soleum, consider writing a review of Lord of the Dance on Amazon instead.
THE GREAT WALL – SIMATAI
There are several sections of the Great Wall to access, the closest to Beijing being Badaling. Don’t go to Badaling. Why? It’s the closest section of the Great Wall to Beijing. It’s a tourist trap, and when the Chinese do tourist traps, they go nuts. Simatai is 2 – 2.5 hours out, and it’s worth it. Better views. No crowds. The only annoyances are the souvenir vendors who will stalk you – even up and down the many steep steps – in order to sell their crap. Ask them to leave, and on the 40th try they might get it, but probably not.
Much to my dismay I learned that the “Flying Fox” was in fact not a tram back down the mountain, but rather a wire line that you hang from on a sling. Terrifying for a few moments until you’re over some water, but worth it because you don’t have to walk any more.
PRIVACY
Privacy, like not hawking phlegm everywhere, is unheard of. The size of the population prevents it from happening, and as such you simply get used to dealing with hordes of other people. You push people out of the way without apology, you cut them in line whenever possible, you flood into the elevator before anyone can get out, and you stand right next to people as they enter their ATM password. Nobody gets mad because that’s just what you do. There are myriad things you would say “excuse me” for in the States, but in China you don’t bother. Plus it’s too hard to pronounce.

A heritage rich in railings is worth protecting.

FOOD
Every animal and insect must live in total fear here because they could be on the menu at any given moment. Sautéed bee larvae, donkey meat and bamboo worms are a few of the menu items that left an impression. The very popular “bird’s nest” is not a euphemism. It’s a bird’s nest. Aren’t bird’s nests made from twigs? you ask. Most, sure, but this bird makes his nest from saliva. Then a Chinese guy comes and steals it, tells ladies it’s good for them, and they eat it. For the love of God, who thought of eating a spit-constructed avian domicile in the first place?
I can deal with goose head, duck tongue, chicken stomach and pig’s ears – but the typical Chinese menu is like an episode of Fear Factor without the chance to win anything other than irritable bowel syndrome.
MENUS
China’s “One Child” policy is extremely unpopular with people I’ve talked to who want more than one child. According to a friend here, the penalty for having more spawn is three times your annual income. That explains the availability of condoms everywhere. But China’s “One Menu” policy is inexplicable. Two people, one menu. Almost every time, except for the fancy-pants restaurant and the place that wanted me to eat donkey meat.
SEAT BELTS, BIKE HELMETS AND CHILD SEATS
China does not encourage the use of any safety devices. This is part of the “Please Die, We’re Full” policy. If you have a bike, simply have your one child sit on the back and cling to something while you navigate the chaotic traffic. Do not wear a helmet as it might protect you when you’re struck by the side-view mirror of a bus.
COMMUNISM
Someone tell Marx it didn’t work out. It’s capitalism here. The only communist remnants are the gigantic bureaucracy, the one party, and the totalitarian nonsense that comes with communism. But as far as the classless society? Deader than Mao.
ANIMAL RIGHTS
There are none. Any PETA foot soldier would burst into tears at the double-decker donkey hauler, or the stuff-twenty-pigs-in-the-back-mobile. I’ve seen small crates with more chickens in them than a coked-out Colonel Sanders could strangle in three hours.
In fact, some of these animals have such miserable lives you’re actually doing them a favor by wokking them. Basically, there are two types of animal here: beasts of burden or dinner. Or in the case of donkeys, both.

Recently the U.S. consumer was treated to Dove’s “Campaign For Real Beauty” – a broad media effort aimed to show that women with curves were beautiful too. Sadly, the campaign failed to reach my friend Dave who still believes that 98% of women have “cankles.”
That hasn’t stopped the campaign from heading Eastward though. Behold, the women considered “chubby” in Shanghai:

After a stroll through the Yu Gardens, stop by Nanxiang Steamed Buns Restaurant for their famous and overly-popular steamed pork & crab dumplings. You can choose takeaway or have a seat at a table – where hungry patrons will stand over your shoulder waiting for you to leave.

I thought China would be filled with grim-faced, machine-gun toting People’s Army types with government agents shadowing me every step. That’s very much not the case and either I was just misinformed and paranoid, or the government agents are very, very good.
Instead, Shanghai has exceeded my expectations in every way as one of the most spectacular cities I’ve ever seen. Fancy-pants skyscrapers abound and at night everything lights up like an Asian Las Vegas sans gambling. Entire skyscrapers double as electric billboards, or become electric masterpieces. Very Blade Runner.
To say that the city is enormous is an understatement. It’s filled to the brim with a vibrant and very pleasant population – most of whom live in giant apartment complexes, the likes of which I’d never seen before. No one seems to have a dryer. Laundry is everywhere, even thirty stories up.
If you need postcards, go to a tourist area and someone will try and sell them to you every three minutes.
Noticed:
TOYS
I am tempted to purchase “Baby Urinate” for the box alone.
BEGGARS
Beggars are aggressive and don’t take bu shi for an answer. They are predominantly situated near tourist areas and usually limited to “Hallo, money” or “Thank you, money.”
VENDORS
Vendors are aggressive and don’t take bu shi for an answer. They are predominantly situated near tourist areas and usually limited to “Hallo, DVD” or “Hallo, watches, bags.”
TOURS
Asian tour guides all use bullhorns to address their groups, turning any tourist spot into a cacophony of different dialects competing to tell you about the vase or tree you’re looking at. A guide told me they don’t use them for Western tourists because we’re averse to having someone with a bullhorn talking to them from one foot away. Not so for the various Asian visitors who are perfectly content to have a 90 decibel lecture on the Qing dynasty delivered to their face. Even if the group numbers two, as I witnessed.
SAFETY
Highway crews are deposited on the road with nothing more than an orange jacket and their pruning shears. There are no flashing lights, barricades, signs, or any attempts to put some distance between them and the automobiles, trucks and cycles that could kill them every millisecond. This is part of the government’s Please Die, We’re Full policy.

MAO
You’d think a guy whose devastating economic and political policies killed so many people would be unpopular. Silly you! Merchants sell Mao’s “Little Red Book” of thoughts, Mao watches, Mao pins and statues here and there celebrate his legacy. Kudos to a state-run press for keeping that charmer’s past under wraps.
SPITTING
Phlegm here is the by-product of a serious pollution problem and a national love of smoking. Spitting it all over the place is the by-product of Mao’s Cultural Revolution which embraced “peasant” behavior. The government is aware that hawking phlegm everywhere is freakish to Western tourists and is making an effort to stop it. In the meantime however, watch where you’re walking – or turn it into a fun game.
LANGUAGE
The language is fairly impossible to speak, in part because of the tonal aspect. There are four tones: high, rising, falling-rising, falling. That means you’ll enjoy many exchanges like “Shizou? Shizou? Shizou?” until they realize you meant “ShiZOU.” Depending on how you use tones when saying “tang” you are either saying “soup”, “sugar”, “to lie down” or “boiling hot.” So when you thought you were ordering Hot & Sour soup you were actually telling the waiter you were taking a nap.
The Chinese characters used to indicate highway on-ramps are “enter” and “mouth” while the off-ramps are indicated by “leave” and “mouth.” The two symbols zhong and guo mean “Middle Country” – which means China. At any rate, I’m starting to understand why they move to New York and open “Funny Cry Happy Porcelain Gift Shop.”
FOOD
Anything is fair game. While I’m willing to be adventurous (jellyfish) I’m not willing to be too adventurous (goose stomach). The bad news for dog lovers is that man’s best friend finds himself on the menu. The good news is they’re more of a winter thing, so you still have some time to play with your pet.
COMMUNISM
Having seen a Ferrari, Viper, Porsches, BMWs and several Lexii – as well as Rolls Royce and Bentley dealerships – one has to think that the fundamental class-equality theory of communism isn’t really working. To use a Polish expression from their communist days: “there’s even, and there’s evener.”
DRIVING
Foreigners aren’t allowed to drive here – so why are the road signs also in English? And in a cutlery-free society, why is the symbol for “restaurant” a fork and knife?