Following our station ordeal, most of the train slept until Gansu (another province, many hours away). Nearly two days later, we found ourselves walking through what seemed to be Xi’an’s Stationery Shop District on the way to our hostel, which turned out to overlook the central Bell Tower, flanked in its traditional garb by some very untraditional Western shopping malls.

Early the next morning we got a high-speed train to Hua Shan to climb the holy mountain peaks above it. The taxi driver took us to his mate’s restaurant and told us the mountain was shut, but we decided to go anyway. After poking around a working temple before the entrance we discovered that he hadn’t been lying: it was closed for maintenance (we hadn’t trusted his word, having been warned specifically about taxi-restaurant scams in the area). This meant we now had an afternoon in Xi’an itself, which we used to visit the Bell and adjacent Drum Towers. Mid way through a performance of traditional Chinese instruments I realised that we were listening to Auld Lang Syne. We also wandered down the Hui Food Street to sample bíang bíang mīan (I can’t put the Chinese characters here because bíang is so complicated it hasn’t been put on computers), for which Shaanxi province is famous.

Resigned to the fact that our delayed train ruled out seeing the Terracotta Army, we settled for the Big Goose Pagoda which was well worth the trip for photos (and half the regular price; thank you PT for our ‘bona fide volunteer’ cards). After this we traipsed off to the station for another sleeper to Shanghai, which was mercifully punctual.

Shanghai arrived with a free Kieran who seemed to be waiting there for something to happen. First on our list was the famous Pudong skyline from the Bund, followed by the French Concession, where we felt out of place in our travelling getup next to brands so expensive they didn’t bother to display the prices. The evening arrived with an invitation to a swanky club in one such shopping centre, where we quickly realised that we were out of our depth. Somehow I got in (despite my hoodie) and found that our invitation came with free entry and drinks. Let me repeat that: free clubbing for being Western. It’s actually horrifically racist (I’m not being facetious when I say it’s because we’re British).

Suzhou was our next day trip, much more successful than Hua Shan. Everything there was designed to be traditionally Chinese. We aimed for cheaper attractions, but decided to pay for entry to the (not-so) Humble Administrator’s Garden. We wandered snap-happy between pagoda-topped islands and bonsai tree gardens. On our way back to the station we got lost in a maze of alleys.

The next day saw us off to Hangzhou, me recovering from the night before and both of us tolerating the weather, which obscured the lake views we’d been promised. My shoes also developed a leak (both at once), so we gave up on sightseeing and found the familiar tastes of a Hui-owned 兰州拉面 shop (thick noodles like in Xinjiang) for lunch, before squelching (in my case) back to Shanghai.

Calum and I left Shanghai at the end of the week. We opted for a bullet train to Xiamen (so the journey was only 8 hours). Shanghai is one of the first big cities I’ve really taken to – I could quite happily live there – so I was eager to return when my family visit.

—TJC

Featured image: traditional music performed in Xi’an’s Bell Tower.