Kaifeng for a day...

Mon, August 3

Mike

Slow start. We both got up and realized that it was Imodium time for both of us. Could have been the "sandwich" at the caves (which had uncooked veggies in it), or any of the street food at night, but it was time for two pills each. It worked, and we were on the way. The hotel breakfast was just as bad this morning as the morning before. Wonder why?

Took the bus to the train station and walked across the street to buy 2 tickets to Kaifeng. It was before 10 AM, but the tickets (52 Y apiece) were for 10:45 AM. We were some of the first on the bus, so we got good seats, BUT the bus did not fill by 10:45, so we slowly left the bus station, finally leaving at about 10:52 AM. The bus leaves the town on local roads, picking up a few passengers, and some delivery items on the way. Finally, close to an hour later, over some bumpy local roads, we were on the limited highway.

The distance from Luoyang to Kaifeng is only a little more than 200 km (maybe as much as 225 km). Since I was sitting in the front seat, I got to see how much the driver paid for the tolls. The driver's "highway cost" was 105 Y (apx $15.50 for 125 miles). This was almost exactly the price of Curtis's and my bus tickets (50 apiece, with 2 purchase fees), so we know that it takes 2 fares to "pay" the tolls on a public bus ride. It probably takes another 6 fares to pay for the gas, and another 6 fares for the upkeep of the vehicle....so there is not a whole lot of profit in this enterprise.

The bus trip was scheduled to run 3 hours. At about 2 PM, we were at the bus station in Kaifeng, right next to the train station and south of the walled city. It was starting to rain. We were accosted by a motorized rickshaw driver who agreed to take us to the hotel for 8 Y. Why not? So we showed him the name of the hotel and the address we had copied in our best imitation of Chinese characters, and off we went.

Our driver found the street easily enough, and it was only 400 m long (or so), but no hotel. So up we went, and took a u-turn, and back, and u-turn again.... Finally, he realized that our destination had a different name, and was set back in an alley. Soon we were checked in.

It was now close to 3 PM. Time for a quick snack of soup and a beer. We returned the beer because it was oxidized (turns out that ALL the local beer in Kaifeng is oxidized - they deliberately brew it that way). It was now time to see Kaifeng.

We walked toward the small Muslim quarter of Kaifeng, which 800 years ago was apparently also the Jewish quarter, and walked through. We finally got to the site of the old synagogue, of which nothing remains. We took a motorized rickshaw to the Old Guanlin Temple, an active Buddhist temple with plenty of buildings.

Then a half hour later, we walked back to the main north-south street and took the 3 bus to the end of the line to see the Iron Pagoda. Admission to the park was 20 Y. It was raining, but in we went. We got to the pagoda, which cost 10 Y to climb: 55 m high, 168 steps up a narrow unlit steep staircase. I might not have done it, but the guys there told us in pantomime that we were too old and too fat to climb it. Soo, of course, up we went. It was sweaty work, but we did it.

Down to the street and back to the hotel.

At 8 PM we went out - and what a delight. The whole street was filled with temporary restaurants, dozens of them. Hundreds and thousands of people eating away, with street musicians and huge amounts of noise. Anything you ever wanted (or didn't want) on-a-stick, ready to be cooked. Fare of course included octopus, whole fish, squid, and innards; also, some kind of beetle or roach or cricket. There were several people cooking bread and/or skewers in a tandoor oven.

I finally settled on my meal - 10 sticks of lamb, a stick of hot green peppers, and a stick of eggplant, along with one of those oxidized beers. Then we went for Curtis' meal: a Big Mac and fries and a Coke.

Back to the room at 10:00 PM, where we struggled to make the A/C work and went to bed.

Postscript: China has tandoor ovens, and all sorts of portable and fixed ovens, all of them called "huolu" - "fire stove."

In Dali, we met a couple who introduced us to the concept of Fire Stove Cities. These are cities in China so torrid that they are called furnace cities. She said that the three traditional fire stove cities in China are Wuhan, Chongqing, and Changsha. Since then, we have talked to many who have included Nanjing among the fire stove cities. Only God knows why we visited China in late July when the temperatures are so impossible and it rains nearly every day.

The US Army developed the concept of "90-90-90." At 90 degrees F with 90% humidity, you fall out with heat exhaustion in 90 seconds. This means that you cannot climb out of a waterfall in Vietnam in the hot summer. "90 + 90" corresponds to a heat index of 87 degrees F, which is thus the maximum in which a human being can survive. Well, in Wuhan this summer, the heat index on several days reached 82 degrees F, just 5 degrees short of being automatic heat exhaustion for the entire population. We didn't go to Wuhan - but on Monday, July 20th, it hit 104 degrees in Shanghai with reasonably high humidity, which is PLENTY HOT ENOUGH.

So why did we go to China in late July? It was something about an total eclipse of the sun that we did not see because of the rain. Of course, some of the folks in Wuhan dodged the clouds and saw the eclipse.

Curtis

Both of us had a bout of the General Tso's revenge this morning, so we took the Imodium Express. We left Luoyang on the bus, headed for Kaifeng. The ride was a mostly bumpy 3 hours, but fortunately the bus wasn't quite full, so I lucked out with a seat all to myself.

Kaifeng is a somewhat neglected stop on the way back east. Nevertheless, in its heyday, it was the capital of the Song dynasty before the Jurchen sacked it and splintered off the norther part of the empire. At one time, it had communities of Jews and Christians as well as Moslems, and today still has a sizeable Islamic population. Much local food features flatbreads cooked in a sort of tandoor oven, as well as kabobs.

The city is quite dirty, and a slow drizzle just made it worse. Nevertheless we managed to make it to a beautiful Buddhist temple and to the so-called Iron Pagoda. The pagoda gets its name because of the dark glaze on the tiles; it is built of bricks. There is no iron in it except the gates in the windows, which prevent anyone who dares to climb it from having a deadly mishap. After some argument with the gatekeeper, who claimed that we were either too big or too old to climb the stairs, we managed to purchase half-price tickets, and they loaned us a flashlight.

The stairway lights stop after the first round. Mike counted 168 steps to the top, which is not an observation deck. It just gets narrower and narrower until you finally reach a stone with a carved Buddha figure. Then you turn around and make your way back down. The steps are really steep -- worse by far than the ones going down to our laundry room in the basement. I was climbing with hands and feet and holding on to the low hanging brick ceiling on the steep way down, but we had to do the climb just to prove ourselves to the gate keeper. At least it was a good enough effort to thoroughly soak my shirt in the high humidity, even though the temperature wasn't that high.

Then we made it back to the hotel and went to the night market, which was right outside on the street. Much local food features flatbread, as well as kabobs. Mike had the nerve to graze, but I stuck to my guns. I was on my second strike against Chinese food after having to consume the Imodium remedy this morning. In the night market we saw all kinds of fish, organs, crickets (or something like that with exoskelletins). What I did not see was the goat's eyes, though the book says you can find them there, too.

I stuck to my guns and, after Mike had a dish of rather greasy lamb kabobs, he sat patiently with me as I thoroughly enjoyed a burger with cheese and delicious french fries and a Coke at McDonalds. I have found a new appreciation for this cuisine which I have not sampled in the US for at least 7 years or more. It was much better than I ever remembered.