Here Comes The Sun

Hearing that it was the best in China, we made for the Shanghai Museum the following morning. When we arrived, we found there was a line-up leading out the door, down the steps, and well out in front of the building. This was on a Monday. Thankfully, it moved fast, and, in what may well be a singular occurrence in China, entrance was free. We were not disappointed: ancient swords, awesome stonework, minority clothing and thousand-year-old paintings fascinated us for the next two hours.

Next we caught a bullet train to West Lake (I'd later learn that our ride was its last run. It was being replaced by a new high-speed train the very next day; twice as fast, and twice as expensive). Assuming we could take any seat, we unloaded our packs and plopped down for the trip. A few minutes later, a young Chinese man gently informed Hyangmi that she was sitting in his seat, and, taking a look at our tickets, told us we didn't have seat tickets. We were supposed to sit in the aisle or stand for the whole trip! However, along with speaking excellent English, (and getting us seats) this guy also turned out to be ultra-helpful and generous; later finding our hostel, paying for our taxi, and treating us to a fantastic dinner of local food with his wife. Oliver, the forklift salesman--friendliest guy we've met in China.

Took a stroll by the lake that night, a welcome peace after the chaos of Shanghai.

Lake hostel was a bunk bed affair, and the toilet leaked, but it had a great staff and American style breakfast.

Our first day in West Lake began with an hour long city bus ride to the terminal to buy our tickets to Yellow Mountain. If the bus had been travelling in the opposite direction it would have taken 15 minutes. Our bad luck continued that morning when a taxi driver misunderstood our request to go the lake, and took us instead to the nearby "Xixi wetland" For its exorbitant entry fee, Xixi offered very little. Within an hour we were searching for the exit. We wanted to see the thing the city was famous for--what we had come here for--the real West Lake, and we had to see it fast, we had a bus to catch. Once we made our way back to the terminal, Hyangmi asked me: "Do you want to try a motorcycle taxi?" This turned out to be an excellent idea. Minutes later we were speeding down the road, cutting into the bike lane, and hurtling up onto the sidewalk, striking fear into the hearts of pedestrians, and scattering entire tour groups in our path. It was great. West Lake was lovely, and the nights bus ride into the mountains was gorgeous; ever-oranger tunnels swallowing us like so many fiery kilns.