Jiuzhaigou - The Journey Up

Late April 2006

If you have heard horror stories about bus rides up the mountainous route to Jiuzhaigou, you’d probably wonder how much of it is actually true. Well, wonder no more because I can now assure you that most of what you’ve heard… is probably 99.9% true.

Roller Coaster From Hell

The Jiuzhaigou Scenic Area is situated in northwest Sichuan, approximately 40 minutes by flight and 10-12 hours by bus from the capital of Chengdu. My entourage opted for the cheap and thrilling experience of the 10-hour bus ride. The advantages of this option? A saving of RMB600 and a chance to witness the amazing scenery of snow-capped mountains and small Tibetan villages right outside our windows.

As for the bus drivers from hell who speed, honk and overtake vehicles along narrow paths that plunge into the ravine on one side, my advice for future passengers would be to sit back (as far back into the bus, away from the honking driver, as you can) and relax (try really hard) because it is definitely one priceless journey. And of course, just ignore the sight of wrecked vehicles below the cliff. They must have plunged down a long time ago. Nothing to worry about.

Our bus departed at 8.30am from Chengdu’s Chadianzi bus station. It was impossible to sleep during the entire journey because the devil’s driver kept honking and stepping on the brakes as he cut corners and overtook a vehicle every five minutes. Some of my friends eventually found a way to entertain themselves by betting on how long it would take before the driver overtook another vehicle. 30 seconds was probably the shortest interval that they came upon.

But guess when all the excitement began? There are nine hairpin turns towards the top of the mountain, with sharp bends and steep slopes. Yes, sounds like the Initial D movie, right? Try doing it on a bus. That's what I call adrenaline rush.

Hairy Cows and Rabbit Stew

Midway up the mountains, the scenery outside our windows revealed clusters of Tibetan villages with conspicuous satellite dishes outside each little hut. Along the roadside, natives charge 10RMB for a photograph with their hairy, white yaks. The ‘hairy cow’ or mao niu (毛牛), as they call it, can be seen along the roadside from mid mountain onwards. However, the only form of mao niu that can be seen at the small Jiuzhaigou township came in packets of beef jerky.

We reached the small town of Jiuzhaigou at about 8pm. Journey completed in just “12 relatively painless hours” (quote: Lonely Planet Guide to China). Dinner that evening consisted of mala (麻辣) rabbit stew, preserved mao niu slices, free range chicken soup, and 10 other vegetable dishes.

We had a choice of 2 to 3 live rabbits to choose from. The boys immediately trooped out of the restaurant, pointed at the fattest rabbit they could see and watched in amusement as the restaurant owner weighed it on the scales. “A little bit more than 2 kilos. Should be alright for 11 people, yes?” We nodded. And in went the rabbit.

For the next 3 days, breakfast was a staple of fresh soy bean milk, youtiao (油条), boiled eggs (scrambled, fried or poached can also be requested depending on your ability to describe them), porridge and assortment of steamed buns. Eat to your heart’s content for less than 10RMB per person.

More pictures available on my flickr page. Rabbit photo courtesy of Wayne Wong. And Wayne, respect for eating that rabbit head!

Just a Little Bit of Wind, A Little Bit of Dust

4 Nov 2006

Outlook: Sunny

Temperature: 5 – 16 degrees Celcius

Wind speed: 29 – 49 km/h

One of those really windy days in Beijing.

I was all dressed, ready to cycle out to the nearby market for some groceries. As soon as I got to the bicycle shed, a gust of wind stopped me on my tracks. Leaves were rustling and trees were swaying madly to the erratic rhythm of the gale.

Ignoring it, I pushed my bike out onto the street and started cycling. Within 5 meters, I chickened out. Sand was getting into my eyes. I let out a yelp as my cap was blown off my head. In the distance, I could see dirt being blown off the basketball courts to form a thick yellow fog chasing an imaginary victim across the road.

Time to get back indoors.

From my ninth floor window, I could see mini dust storms sweeping across campus. Windows were shaking and there were whirring sounds from the outside. Is this the beginning of winter?

Attention Nerds: Google is Here!

3 Nov 2006

It was 7pm on a Friday night. There was no parking left (bicycle parking, I mean) outside the Economics building. Bicycles spilled from the sidewalks into the lawn. There was even traffic jam (bike traffic) outside the building.

President of Google China was in da house.

3rd November 2006, Google President Kai-Fu Lee was in Tsinghua University to talk about talent for the 21st Century. Doors open 6.40pm and the event was supposed to start at 7.30pm.

When we arrived at 7pm, the security guard was shaking his head. "There's another seminar going on. Why don't you go for that one instead," he pointed to a lame Finance seminar poster nearby. No way, dude. We're here for Google.


The hall was already bursting with people. Some tried to climb in through the window and others strained their necks to get a peek of what was going on inside. People were trying to get in any way possible. If you could kill someone to get in, those kids probably will. It was unbelievable. Just like a rock concert.


So we left, as we didn't have any claws to clear the way in.

Inner Mongolia

Early June 2006

We have traveled 2 hours along the bumpy terrains of Inner Mongolia to see the grasslands and to experience one night inside a Mongolian yurt. During the two-hour bus ride, an image began to form in our minds: pretty Mongolian girls singing to us upon our arrival, a whole lamb roasting on the spit, waiting to be devoured by a bunch of hungry Beijing tourists, a night of cultural exchange dancing by the bonfire—a truly exotic Mongolian experience.

But somehow, this fantasy didn’t quite evolve into what we expected. In fact, the little ‘Mongolian’ settlement we were in was totally unreal—‘Mongolian’ girls running around struggling to put on their ‘costumes’ (with a pair of jeans underneath) as tourists arrive by the busloads, pieces of unidentifiable meat roasting on a makeshift barbeque pit, ‘traditional’ Mongolian music coming out of an electronic organ with a synthesizer, and everyone else dancing to doof-doof techno music around the ‘bonfire’ that is an empty oil barrel with burning twigs inside it.

Let me tell you something real though, the horsemen were real Mongolians. And probably their horses too. And the sandstorm. Yes, the sandstorms. Those were real.

As the wind swept across the barren patch of earth that our yurts were built on, little sand hurricanes were swirled up into midair, terrorizing tourists that were about to go on their riding trips. I could see the sand coming from fifty meters away. Everyone watched in awe before realizing that it was coming straight at us! We automatically scrambled into a group huddle, ducked our heads and pulled our hoods as far down our heads as possible, waiting for the ordeal to end. I could hear the sand beating against our body and the wind howling across the bare land. Woohoo! I got to see a real Mongolian sandstorm!

The wind finally stopped after depositing a gram or two of sand into our ears and jacket pockets. I shook the sand off, put on my surgical mask, wrapped a scarf over my head turban-style, slid on a pair of sunnies and got onto my horse. Yes, I was all ready for my Mongolian adventure.