July 24, back to Hangzhou

Morning Update: Turns out that not going to the Stone Forest was the right decision; it’s pouring right now, and Shan will accompany me to the bus station.

A bit more to update upon from two more days of travel. On Friday morning, as I mentioned, it was raining heavily, so I ate and went to the bus station in Qiandao City with Shan. Although she gave me her phone number, with me having no email with which to contact her, I feel that this parting will be for good. If I can get Skype working, I’ll try to call her during the summer.

The bus back to Hangzhou was uneventful, apart from my newfound knowledge that a number of Kung Fu movies are as ridiculous in original as they are dubbed. Or perhaps the sync was wrong precisely because they were dubbed, in Mandarin over a Cantonese track? It was also raining in Hangzhou by the time I arrived, and did so heavily as I looked for my hostel, the Hangzhou West Lake Youth Hostel. The place, incidentally, is lovely, clean, well kept, with a kind and helpful English speaking staff, a good menu, and an adorable German Shepherd puppy (named Renmeng, I think). The dog is spoiled, and I understand why; all these travelers (including me) miss their dogs at home. I was puppy starved and so let him “nibble” on me, with pain from puppy teeth, and eventually my water bottle.

As I headed out to go Silk shopping, I met James who had lost both his wallet and place to stay. We traveled across HZ together and then parted ways, he for his new hotel and me for the market. There, I spent far too much money, but I also have some excellent gifts to bring home, and even have something nice for myself. I can also guarantee that all will “love” my Halloween costume this coming year.

Returning to the hostel, I found a street (it’s existence had been previously unknown to me) with hundreds of small shops and explored a bit, buying Jiaozi (pot stickers) to tide me over. The next day I bought some Chinese/Pinyin/English children’s books, but this is out of order. I listened to a superb Chinese-Saxophone player, and then hiked up to a pagoda on a hill. The pagoda was depressingly non-traditional, with the slowest elevator I’ve ever ridden in. The hill itself was lovely; green and foresty, and if it were Japan, there’d have been shrines everywhere. On the way down, I took a different route, took a wrong turn, hopped on a bike, and rode miles in the wrong direction. I knew I was lost when I asked somebody where Xihu was, and got an “I don’t know” in response. In all, I spent about an hour very lost and very nervous in Hangzhou. And on the way back, I got soaked because it started raining yet again. I ran down Nanshan Road as fast as I could and arrived at the hostel drenched, thirsty and out of breath.

I chatted for a bit with a Yorkshire family on Holiday, found “Ender’s Shadow” and read it while I ate my first real sandwich in months, then chatted with other guests, including a Brit whose name I’ve forgotten, a couple from Oakland (who informed that my letter to Aanastad had been utterly ineffective, i.e. the state budget had been gutted), and Ellie Chang from Virginia, whose name I remember because I have her email. She was the only one I met who was also studying in China, although the subject was Chinese for her and physics for me. Then I stayed up far too late reading Ender’s Shadow.