The key to conquering China is to wake up very early.
Like most touristy places in the world, beating the crowds with an early morning arrival usually helps with travel troubles.
Except in China, you’re trying to beat a crowd of a billion.
For example, if you rock up after 10 am, you and ten thousand other tourists will be vying for the same Great Wall selfie. Or, you will get stuck elbowing your way through a sea of sweaty, aggressive gawkers for a glimpse at some old soldier statues that are mostly in pieces anyway (OK, to be fair, the Terracotta army is pretty cool).
Luckily, my 2-week China tour kicked off with a bright and early Great Wall wander that got us there before any other tour group. We’re talkin’ sunshine and silence. It was glorious. No one to photobomb my solo selfies.
But the best part of the Great Wall was actually getting down from it. In this case, it was via a toboggan ride that was both thrilling and terrifying, and had me feeling like yaaaas, Great Wall! Let’s go!
And the brochure features Michelle Obama having an equally exhilarating experience. So, you know this thing is legit.
Another fun activity is clocking the hilariously mistranslated graphic tees that seem to be a very popular trend in China.
Some of my favorites include (misspellings intended):
- On fire!
- What if I can do it?
- Techno teenager
- Believe in smile
- Humor sense
- In our life, we’re doomed to no end
- There is no summer no
- Very girls is
- God I’m loner
- Oklahoma summer accumulation
- Baguette is not a crine
The only unfortunate part is that I don’t have photographic evidence of these hilarious shirts. However, the internet does, because this is a thing, so here you go.
My final piece of Chinese advice, for my Western, fair-skinned friends, is expect to be treated like a celebrity.
And by that I mean in only one regard: photos. Lots and lots of photos. From polite requests from teenage girls to creeper shots from old men, to sneaky selfies that catch you in the frame…the Chinese LOVE to take your picture.
And, you know what? I didn’t hate it.
“Of course, I’ll pose with you and your family by the tree!” “Sure, I’ll hold your selfie stick while we take a snap together!” “It would be my pleasure to stop eating my meal so you and your mom can pose with me!”
I mean, cmon’, I felt special. I was a star! Was it kind of weird, maybe, but I realized just how novel my fair features are for curious Chinese on-lookers. And I was happy to roll with it.
The minute I left the mainland for Hong Kong, however, my stardom instantly faded.
You see, if London and New York had a hip, little Asian baby, Hong Kong would be it. As a result, there are A LOT of white people that reside on the island. So, yeah, no more special treatment for me.
Of course, that didn’t stop me from enjoying this expat playground to the fullest! My teacher friend there, with her sweet, no-rent deal and double my paycheck salary, had me convinced this was the little foreign land of opportunities and I should join the party.
But, after a week of reveling in the endless party that is Hong Kong, I remembered why my expat days were fun but far behind me.
And, Miami is my girl. Unless, she scorns me. Then, it looks like I have a solid back-up plan.
And then there was the Great Tokyo Fail.
If I had to give this chapter of my trip a title, it would be called WTF, Tokyo?!
Now, I could give you a detailed run-down of all my daily disasters, but I thought, hey, that’s in the past now. Why relive it?
Instead, I thought I would give a more useful ‘Tokyo Dos and Don’ts List’ based on my 6 days of misadventures in this hectic and strange city.
Here we go…
- Do plan ahead. Tokyo is the worst city to wing it.
- Don’t arrive at Narita Airport after the last train to Tokyo leaves. Otherwise, you’ll be paying almost $300 for a taxi. Or, kicking it like your old skool backpacking days and sleeping in the airport with the other poor travelers until the first train arrives the next morning. (Holly had to do what Holly had to do…)
- Don’t sit in direct sunlight on an open-air bus tour. You will get heatstroke. And, after taking refuge in an air-conditioned shoe store, your melted brain will be vulnerable and you will leave with very expensive Japanese sneakers.
- Do take full advantage of the Japanese toilets. They are delightful!
- Don’t start crying in the middle of Shinjuku Station (even if it’s the busiest train station in the world and the train system is the most complicated you’ve ever seen and you bought the wrong ticket and you can’t get a refund and you suffer from anxiety). Japanese people will get very, very uncomfortable.
- Don’t eat sushi where there are Westerners. It will likely be smothered in mayo (and not the delicious spicy kind) and your high Japanese sushi expectations will forever be destroyed.
- Don’t ask to take a Harajuku girl’s photo. She will likely decline.
- Do ask a Harajuku boy, however. He is very happy to shine. (Hey, I made a rhyme!)
- Don’t book a trip to climb Mt. Fuji during typhoon season. You will put on the gear. You will get excited. It will get cancelled.
- Don’t, then, book a very expensive hotel in the countryside thinking you’ll make one last ditch effort to get out of Tokyo and pamper yourself at a zen retreat. The town will be flooded, trains will be delayed, and you won’t get your money back.
- Do go bar-hopping after you bump into a former Japanese student that you taught 4 years ago in Australia and he recognizes you in a crowd full of people and wants to treat you to dinner and drinks in exchange for some English lessons (That happened! Small world! Silver lining!)
- Do sleep in a capsule. Unless you’re claustrophobic. Then, definitely don’t do that.
- Finally, don’t beat yourself up about your bad luck in Tokyo. It comes with the travel territory and it just means you need to come back during a different season, with a friend, and a much better plan.
By the time I got to Korea, I was tired of being a tourist.
No longer was I waking up early to rush to a temple or hike up some sacred mountain.
Instead, I spent my mornings watching Ellen’s funniest moments on YouTube, and getting up only to do bits and bobs, here and there.
My Korean friends, whom I’d spent 33 days with last summer in Africa and were now generously hosting me in their country, encouraged my vegetative state.
I did, however, make it to a famed Korean spa.
And it was here, in a bath full of naked Korean women, that I had a wonderful revelation.
The female form is absolutely fabulous!
Sneaking subtle glances, I observed women of all ages and sizes, picking and probing, examining and exfoliating. Women whose wrinkled faces belied their gravity-defying bodies. Scars from mastectomies and C-sections. Birth marks. Stretch marks. Pock marks. Coarse hair. Thin hair. No hair. It was all magnificent!
But, it was the meticulous care the women took not only in their own bodies, but in each other’s, that had me fascinated.
So, I decided to get stuck into this traditional grooming ritual by purchasing a full body scrub.
Now, let’s be clear, this procedure is extremely unpleasant.
Here’s the deal: You lay on a massage table, in all your naked glory, while a very sweet-looking Korean lady, in lingerie, aggressively exfoliates every vulnerable inch of you…missing NOTHING.
And, no, it’s not as sexy as it may sound. It hurts. You’re scared. And, you wonder when the torture will end.
But, at the end of my scrub, laying bare, buffed, and baby-soft, surrounded by mounds of my dead skin (told you it wasn’t sexy), it was as if I had been reborn. A cleanliness that put all my old bathing habits to shame.
I was utterly rejuvenated and I felt like I could finally go out and explore the world again!
Which is exactly what I did.
I walked around the bustling streets of Seoul, ate that bomb street food whilst jamming to K-Pop, picked peaches at my friend’s family’s farm, had real Korean BBQ, sang karaoke, obviously, and woke up early to take in some temples and hike some sacred mountains.
I managed to sneak in one last Korean spa session before heading to the airport.
Since leaving Japan, I couldn’t seem to shake my lingering stress, and I thought a dip in the warm baths again would help.
As I examined my post-30 “wisdom lines”, my premature hair “sparkle”, and the summer weight I’ve come to expect after feasting my way through a country’s cuisine, I started to stress about the simultaneous freedom and frustration I feel when traveling alone, the sadness of the trip ending, the looming responsibilities back home…
But, just as the panic started to rise from my core, I noticed an old lady smiling at me. And, I snapped out of it.
Instantly, I replaced the panic with a feeling of gratitude for the privilege to be surrounded by those naked Korean queens as I continue to get the chance to explore this weird and wonderful world.
As it turns out, there’s a lot to be learned at a Korean spa.
So, my verdict? The Far East is far out, in every sense of the word. And, I’ll be back, I’m sure. If only to get some decent sushi this time.
Oh, and, take more emo pics of lotuses, because, I mean…
Thinking Over 30 