The first day we were in Dublin, I met up with a friend in a pub in Temple Bar (not all of the Temple Bar pubs suck, I promise). We sat down, had a couple pints of Guinness in as many hours and caught up on the last 5 years. As I was sitting there, a warm, familiar feeling washed over me, that feeling of timelessly getting lost in enjoying the company of friends. That is something people in the rest of the world tend to do better than people in the United States. At home, my mind tends to drift to all the things I have to do, or should be doing. I can’t help but feel guilty letting a day pass by, doing nothing but enjoying myself. For some reason, while I’m in Ireland, those things don’t bother me as much. It’s not because I have less on my plate. During this last trip, I was just over a week away from landing at home with no real idea how I was going to make a living (Still working on that. Stay tuned).

Stag's Head, Dublin

Stag's Head, Dublin

Busker, Dublin

Dublin

Tunes

I squeaked in a couple days in Galway, where I lived for almost all of 2004. There is a new motorway between Dublin and Galway and, holy smokes, has it cut down that trip. I remember 3.5 to 4 hour bus journeys and now it’s around 2 hours and 15 minutes.

My first stop was to meet a friend at a place where I have spent many a day and many a dollar, Tigh Neachtain.

Tigh Neachtain

Tigh Neachtain

Tigh Neachtain

Galway gave me some pretty fabulous weather. I spent about 48 hours furiously catching up with friends and toddling around old stomping grounds.

River Corrib

Ard Bia at Nimmo's

Of course someone is walking a tight rope at the Spanish Arch

Galway

Quay Street

There are things I miss about living in Ireland. Things and people and landscapes that I wish I had at arm’s length here. But there is one thing that I love so much that I consumed it on a (sometimes bi)weekly basis while living there and never cared that I could feel my heart working harder simply to keep myself alive after just the first bite. Something that I had 4 out of 5 nights on this return trip.  Something that I am grateful is not within arm’s length here for the sake of my circulatory system and waistline.

Oh my f$%&ing god, I love those things. It’s chips (french fries, obviously) covered with grated cheddar cheese and garlic mayonnaise. I KNOW! I don’t think even Paula Deen would unleash such a beast onto the world. I conducted an unscientific study with a friend in Galway on who had the best garlic cheese chips. If you care to know, the best chips were at Mario’s and the best cheese ratio and garlic sauce were at Vinnie’s. Mario’s had since closed but Vinnie’s is still there on Upper Dominic Street across from the Roisin Dubh. I paid a visit on this last trip and am pleased to say they are still as heart-stoppingly delicious as ever. And while I could wait another 5 years for a plate of those, I hope another 5 years doesn’t pass me by before I’m in Ireland again.

Some chunes backstage

There was a bar backstage which we crowded into after the show, sharing a few drinks where Bowie, Led Zeppelin, Kraftwerk, Judy Garland and many other famous and talented people had gone before us. It was a bit surreal.

A crappy photo of the bar at the Paris Olympia

The bar at the Paris Olympia

I had been in Paris before, almost ten years before actually. I was backpacking through Europe with a friend after college. We took care of many of the touristy things, a day at the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay, Champs-Elysées, L’Arc de Triumphe, Notre Dame, The Eiffel Tower, Versailles…all that jazz. I didn’t really have a plan for Paris this time around, which is not like me. I had become the de facto tour guide in China because I wanted to maximize any free time I had. But when I got to Paris I was like, eh, I think I’ll just walk around, maybe eat some cheese, maybe drink some wine.

One of the many wonderful things about Paris is that it’s so walkable because of its size and because there’s always something beautiful to look at. It’s an incredibly photogenic city. So I basically spent a few days dividing my time between two activities – walking and eating, and hoping the former would counteract the latter.  My favorite places to do both of those were the Latin Quarter and Montmartre. I know they’re cliche, but they’re cliche for a reason. I don’t have much else to say about  my time in Paris other than it was lovely and leisurely. I will let some photos do the talking.

The Olympia

The Sacre Coeur

Paris, from the Sacre Coeur

Crepe

I was going to try to smuggle some unpasteurized goat cheese out of the country but it was eaten within a matter of hours.

Rue Mouffetard

The Seine

Notre Dame

The Latin Quarter

The Louvre

At the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower

The Pee Pool, as we would later refer to it. And soon you will know why.

We flew in at night. After you pass the Rockies it’s a virtual sea of black till – BAM – Vegas appears sparkling on the shores of the desert. I have been to Vegas twice now and its preposterous geographic location is just one of the reasons I feel kind of weird when I’m there. Reason #2 is that, to me, it is a symbol of many things I don’t like about the world, and reason #3 is that 5 minutes after I get there I start to like those things. Ok, not those things, but I start to do things I wouldn’t normally do, like pay $20 for a 32oz bloody mary at 10 in the morning (sidebar: not advised in 108F heat), or buy gelato for $17.80 at 1am, or stand in a pool with 200 half-naked strangers who are most likely peeing in said pool because you have resorted to peeing in the pool because the bathroom is so far away and everyone around you has told you they are peeing in the pool, or eat truffled potato chips covered in blue cheese (ok, I probably would do that at home).

Wolfgang Puck, you are an evil genius.

Luckily, I was in good company and we genuinely had a great time doing things we weren’t ashamed of as well. One of those things was renting a pontoon boat on Lake Mead for a day. Folks, if you are going to Las Vegas, are over the age of 25, and do not have a gambling problem, do yourself a favor and do this too. It was beautiful and relaxing. I was not even aware that it was nearby, but luckily for us, the bride’s sister had it arranged before we got there. Lake Mead is only 45 minutes from Las Vegas, and you can stop by the Trader Joe’s off of 515 to stock up on snacks and La Playas. It was the perfect balance to the frenetic energy of Las Vegas. Plus, I found it to be quite affordable when you have a few people to share the cost. We spent the better part of the day floating around under a bright blue sky, surrounded by mountains and we could pee in it all we wanted and not feel gross.

We saw wild donkeys!

And the Hoover Dam!

I came back actually feeling rested, which I wasn’t expecting from a long weekend in Vegas. Who knows what ridiculous things I would have done/bought/consumed if I were on the strip that day. So for anyone planning a trip, I highly suggest spending a day on Lake Mead. You won’t hate yourself in the morning.

We were staying in Gaylord but took Saturday to head over the Old Mission Peninsula to cycle and visit some wineries. I had been there before but had traveled by car. The biking provided more time to take in the gorgeous views and enjoy the perfect weather.  I would highly recommend biking if you think you’re up to it but, make no mistake, it was a challenge. I hadn’t noticed how many hills there were on the peninsula the last time I was there, zipping around in a car. But there are hills, many hills, steep hills and a few  of my favorite wineries were on top of those hills. At times it felt like I was in a very long spinning class with intermittent breaks for wine and cheese. I was by far the weakest link when it came to biking. I ocassionally bike around (a very flat) town to get from A to B but I was in the company of some serious cyclists. But still, I couldn’t even keep up with my friend who had RUN A HALF MARATHON earlier that morning.

One of the many, many times the group had to wait for me to catch up.

It also took about, oh, a minute and a half  for me to injure myself. No, I did not fall off the bike. Apparently I can hurt myself just as well while still being on the bike. I somehow managed to ram the back of my ankle into the pedal, which of course had those sharp teeth-like-things (sidebar: why the hell are those on some pedals anyway?!) creating quite a wound.

Smooth move, Exlax.

It helps to be with experienced cyclists on a trip like this. At one point someone had a blowout but luckily there were patch kits and extra tubes and mini-pumps, things that I would have never brought because I don’t know the first thing about bike maintenance.

Ok, so I know you might be kind of confused right now because at first I told you biking was a good idea but then I told you it was really difficult and it made me bleed and that you need all this extra crap. Considering all of that and the fact that I can not yet bend my ankle, I would still recommend it. I just felt that this time I was much more able to take in all the natural beauty around me, the cherry orchards, the grape vines, the views of the bay, the little fruit stands…and it made it all the more enjoyable, even if some of the time I was grunting and sweating and bleeding.

Moving along to the wine…we stopped at Black Star first, which I had visited before.  They charge $5 for 6 tastes and you get a cute, little Black Star wine glass. The ciders impressed me the most there, especially the Apple and Cherry Hard Cider. I can’t stand sweet ciders but those had a nice balance of sour to sweet.

We drove to the next destination, Chateau Grand Traverse. I had been there before and was turned off by the long lines and the fact that they sold lots of country kitsch. We gave it another chance because, well frankly, the tasting was free. I found I quite liked some of their wines, especially the Ship of Fools.

We finally hopped on the bikes and after a long and arduous ride, we arrived at 2 Lads, the standout of the trip.

2 Lads

There are actually 2 lads, one from a wine making family in South Africa and another who grew up in the wine growing area of Michigan. The first thing you notice is how cool the space is, very modern, simple and beautiful. In fact, I kind of wanted to move in as soon as we got there. They take advantage of their position atop a hill  (that drew quite a few expletives out of me on the way up) at the northern end of the peninsula with a giant window you face while you taste.

When can I move in, lads?

Their menu was simpler than the other wineries I had visited on the peninsula with fewer and, I would say, better wines. We had complimentary tastes of the Pinot Grigio, the Cab Franc and the Rosé. I was impressed with all of them but, to our surprise, the favorite was the Rosé. It was made from Cab Franc grapes and was pretty dry and full of berries. I believe they only sell wine off the vineyard right now but I see on their website that merchandise is coming soon. So fingers crossed it will be available online in the near future.

We bought a bottle of that fabulous Rosé and rode to Old Mission Bay for a much needed picnic.

Conspicuous product placement

The final winery we visited was Chateau Chantal. The tasting room sits atop another hill (which meant another expletive-laden journey for me) which gives it some stunning views of both sides of Grand Traverse Bay.

This was by far the most crowded winery we visited and it’s understandable considering its beautiful location. I enjoyed their wines for the most part. We picked up a few bottles and armed with our Naughty Red we headed back the 5 miles or so to the car.

Move the water to make way for the wine.

There’s something about being on a peninsula, especially one as small as the Old Mission, so that you’re visibly surrounded by all that water, that’s incredibly calming. Taking the time to cycle around it amplified that even when I was careening down or struggling up one of its many hills. The Old Mission and the neighboring Leelenau peninsulas might be my favorite part of Michigan. They’re gems in the Midwest, underappreciated ones and not just for their natural beauty. I’ve been impressed with their focus on local food and wine. Now, I’m no wine snob. I would say 90% of the wine I buy is from Trader Joe’s. But  I initially went there expecting to only find sickeningly sweet whites and cherry liquers. But I found many complex reds (it seems to be a great area for Cab Francs), delicious, dry Reislings and that Rosé that I can not get out of my head. I’m not saying Napa is going to have to move over anytime soon but it’s nice to know there is that lovely, little corner of Michigan nearby.

I wasn’t that excited about soup till a few years ago. I thought it was mostly blandish broth with chunks of blandish vegetables floating in it. Things changed when I moved to Ireland. There, in nearly every establishment I went to, I found a hearty, delicious, homemade, pureed soup. A warm bowl of that with a piece of homemade brown bread is just heavenly. The restaurant I worked in had particularly good soup that I ate nearly everyday. When I returned home I began making it more and more and with the purchase of an immersion blender, it became so easy that I was unstoppable. 

A while back, a friend of mine invited me to a meeting of her cooking club. The theme of this particular night was Indian food. Since I don’t have much experience cooking Indian food, I thought I’d make a soup with some Indian flavors. I love lentil soup and know lentils are a staple in Indian cooking with all their dal dishes. In perusing the interweb, I had also seen some carrot and ginger soups (another one of my faves) with Indian spices. I decided to combine the two.

You can obviously make this with a store bought stock to save time, though I have found making vegetable stock to be pretty quick and easy. Here are some great tips from this episode of The Splendid Table. I like to tailor the stock for the specific soup, if possible, by doing things like using the tops of the vegetables that will be in the soup or the stalks of the herbs.

I ended up with quite a lot of soup. I knew I needed to feed 6 people from the cooking club and I wanted some leftovers for myself and my family. I can’t honestly pin point exactly how much it yielded but I think it’s safe to call it a crap load.

I forgot to take photos of the soup so thanks to Kirsten Buys for the snap

Stock:

3-4 quarts of water

8 bunches of greens from the carrot tops

stalks from one bunch of cilantro

1 leek top

1 red onion

5 garlic cloves, smashed

salt and pepper

Simmer for 45 mins in a large stock pot. Don’t let it get to a rolling boil. After 45 mins, strain the vegetable out of the stock, leaving the stock in the large pot.

Soup:

2lb bag of lentils

8 carrots

3 large tomatoes

1 leek

1 shallot

5 cloves of garlic

1 bunch of cilantro

4 tbsp of butter

2 tbsp curry powder (I used a yellow curry that I liked from Dirty Girl Farms in MI who have a booth at the Royal Oak farmers market)

1 tsp cayenne pepper

1 tsp lemon zest

1 tsp freshly grated ginger

2 tsps garam masala

1 tsp cumin

pinch of cinnamon

pinch of nutmeg

salt and pepper to taste

1 can coconut milk

Soak then lentils for about an hour before making the soup. Remove the core of the tomatos and score the skin. Fill a medium saucepan with 1″ of water, place the tomatoes inside and bring to a boil. Cook till the skin is falling off. When tomatoes have cooled remove the skin and set aside.

Chop the carrots, leeks, shallot and 2 cloves of garlic and saute them in the butter for a few minutes, till soft, with a dash of salt to help draw out the moisture.While that’s cooking, drain the lentils, put in the stock and simmer. Add vegetables and cook till everything is tender, about 30 mins.

At this point, you can either transfer it into a food processor in batches or use an immersion blender to puree the soup to your liking. Once, the soup is blended, add the coconut milk and start adding the spices and ginger. Those measurements are based on what I did but I usually start with less and add to taste. At this point I add the rest of the garlic by grating it on a microplane. In the last few minutes of cooking, I muddle the cilantro in a mortar and pestle, yielding about 2 tablespoons, and add it.

After putting it into the bowl, I like to sprinkle it with some fresh cilantro the joy.

One of the suggestions I had received was to only eat in hotels. We had catering provided in almost all the hotels we stayed in. Some of it was good but a lot of it was mediocre, like a whited-down version of Chinese food. The other issue with the catering was that to rely on it meant I would nearly be chained to the hotel and I was more interested in exploring these new places.

I can see how one would be turned off by some of the street food at first. I was lucky enough to have a Mandarin speaker there to translate much of the time which made me more confident that I wasn’t going to end up with dog on my plate. Speaking of dog, the good (or possibly bad) thing about dog meat in China is thatthey see nothing wrong with eating so they don’t try to hide it.

The reason I even bring up the issue of dog meat is that when people warned me about street food in China, one of their main concerns was that I would somehow accidentally eat some. Honestly, I didn’t come across is often and found it easy to avoid. I understand there is some hypocrisy in finding one kind of meat revolting and another kind finger-licking good but for me, there is a difference. People have personal connections with dogs that they don’t have with other animals. A dog will excitedly greet you at the door, affectionately rest its head on your lap and even loyally stay by your side when it knows you are sick. I’ve just never seen a chicken do any of those things.

I would hate for any of the fears that were expressed to me to keep people from being adventurous with the food they try. I had so many delicious things. The inexpensiveness of it made it easy to sample many different dishes and fill up on local specialties for a couple dollars a day. One meal in particular, in Nanning, where 10 of us each had noodle soup and split vegetable dumplings, came to 27 yuan, that’s…are you sitting down?….about $4. For 10 people. FOUR DOLLARS!

Cheap and delicious dumplings in Nanning

Like I said, dog meat was easy to avoid and there is one simple, sure-fire way to avoid it: learn how to say that you don’t want it. I’m a big believer in trying to learn a few important words and phrases in the language of the country in which I’m traveling, even if that language is as difficult as Mandarin. These days, there are enough resources, including free ones on the internet, that it is an easy thing to do. Learning phrases like, “Hello”, “Thank you”, “You’re welcome”, “Excuse me”, and “Do you speak English?” can make a world of difference in your tarvel experience. That being said, for the first two weeks I had the phrases for “Excuse me” and “You’re  welcome” confused. In my defense, they sound kind of similar. But that meant that for a couple weeks I was bumping into people and following it up with, “You’re welcome!” I’m sure that did not do much for the American image abroad.

Besides those basic phrases, there was one that I made sure to have in my arsenal, “I don’t want dog meat.” or in Mandarin, “Wo bu yao guo rou.” You can even hear the tones here. I also made sure to learn the “dog” character, 狗, so I could identify it on menus. It’s that easy, folks.

In every city we were in, it was easy to find markets or single vendors selling dumplings (I think I consumed about 873 dumplings in 6 weeks, all of them delicious), sticky buns, roasted chestnuts, soup, roasted sweet potatoes, grilled meat, fish and bread… The mantra became the dirtier the better. I remember one specific time in Wenzhou when some of us hopped on a bike taxi and asked our driver to take us to some street food. Instead he took us to a restaurant where we could see tablecloths through the window. “Tablecloths?!” we said, “What kind of people do you take us for?!” Instead, we found a restaurant across the street that was much more our style, that is to say, dirty. We actually sat next to the fish that was about to become our stew. We had the most delicious sweet and sour pork, like nothing I have ever had stateside and a steak dish with ginger, soy, cilantro and spring onions that I have desperately been trying to recreate since I’ve been home. Afterward, one of the dancers and I got $1 manicures. A prostitute came in to the salon to use some make-up and told me I had a beautiful nose. So all-in-all, it rounded out to be a lovely evening.

Lisa sitting next to Splashy, whose number was up.

Splashy stew amongst other delicious dishes

The thing is, I never get Chinese food at home. I find it heavy and greasy. I found the food in China to be much different, lighter and fresher. I was often wathcing them make it right in front of me. A great example of that was a Uighur restaurant we found in Foshan. Uighurs are a Turkic people from the Xinjiang province of northwestern China. They are Muslim so their food is halal. They are known for their lamb kabobs and homemade noodles. I was able to watch the amazing process of making the noodles and I have a video here. The noodles were so tender and soaked up the delicious sauce they sat in. We tried a few different dishes but I really loved a very simple dish of noodles with eggplant, green beans and a light sauce heavily flavored with cumin. We loved it so much went back to the restaurant the next night and they didn’t even serve alcohol which is SAYING SOMETHING for his group. If you are traveling in China I would highly recommend trying some of the Uighur cuisine.

Uighur noodle dish

I could honestly go on and on about different dishes and meals I had while in China. I tend to be a bit evangelistic about food in general but I was particularly happy, and honestly, surprised at how much I liked nearly everything I had there. There is one thing I can not leave out, though, and that is The Most Delicious Banana In The World. I know that food tastes best when it’s perfectly ripened and picked fresh. I’ve tasted it for myself. Being that bananas are grown in the tropics and shipped long distances to us in the states, we probably don’t even know what a really good banana tastes like. I certainly didn’t till I had one in China. We were touring some gardens in Foshan and one of the girls spotted a cluster of bananas. She climbed up the tree and threw a few down. Sweet mother of baby Jesus in the manger they were delicious. They were so….banana-y. I never suspected bananas had so much flavor. Every person that took a bite had the same initial blasé response (How good could it be? It’s a banana.) which turned into wonder and amazement. Every banana I’ve had since has just been a disappointment.

So the moral of the story is, if you see a banana tree, grab yourself a banana and enjoy. And if you’re traveling in another country, or anywhere, or heck, even in your hometown, be adventurous with what you eat. You might just find The Most Delicious Something of your own.

Or you might get a tapeworm.

The Most Delicious Banana In The World

There was speculation years ago that the Island was purgatory but that was promptly shot down by the producers. I, for one, would have been disappointed if it had a “They were dead the whole time!” ending. I do think it was an interesting twist, though, that there was an element of purgatory. The way I now understand that alternate reality was that it was something outside of time and space that they had created to help them work though the things they needed to let go of before they could move on and to “find one another” as Christian Shepherd explained. Throughout this season, we were led to believe that the characters were tapping into a parallel universe in which they also existed, but they were actually remembering their real lives and deaths. I was struck by how peaceful, almost joyful they were once they understood that they were dead and about to move on. “I am safe.” Sun explained Sawyer with a smile.

Christian Shepherd also explained to us that not everyone died at the same time (“…some before you and some long after you.”). Hurley and Ben went on to protect the island together for god knows how long (I’m assuming they were in the “long after you” category). When Kate told Jack that she had missed him, that alluded to me that the plane made it home and she went on to live a long life.

For the most part, you could see how the characters were working out their demons in the DIY purgatory. Jack had a son which helped him resolve his issues with his own father. Sawyer dealt with his con-man past by becoming a detective. I’m not sure what Kate was doing, she was still running from the law…. I also thought it was interesting that Eloise Hawking/Widmore was clued into what was going on. Perhaps she hadn’t forgiven herself for killing her own son (kind of  a hard thing to get over, I’m assuming). That is what she needed to let go of in order to move on. Instead she chose to stay there with him as long as she could, keeping him in the dark. And Ben Linus also understood that he had some things to work through before he could leave or perhaps he just wanted more time with Alex.

This may sound like a stretch, but I think a lot of what the show was trying to communicate can be summed up in the stained glass window in the room where Jack and his father spoke. You couldn’t swing a cat in that room without hitting a religious symbol or icon. There were crosses, menorahs, rosaries, Buddhas, Krishna’s, gods and goddesses. The stained glass window showed a light in the center with rays that spread over symbols for Judaism, Islam, Christianity and Taoism. They even had the freaking Donkey Wheel in the bottom left hand corner. I’m no Robert Langdon, but the way I see it, the light in the window was the light on the Island (I think we can all agree they had the 2nd string special effects team working on that one) which was probably the same light that was pouring into the church in the final scene. Let’s call it the source of creation. Those religions represented in the window and, I would venture to say, any religion or philosophy, is the human interpretation of that source.

I’ve read and heard people say the show is about the epic battle between good and evil. I would disagree. I think it is about something more nuanced and interesting in regards to human nature. Over and over we were led to believe someone was bad till it was revealed that character was actually doing what they thought was right. While there were definitely moments when someone carried out something for selfish motives, there was never a clear idea of who the bad guys were. That’s not to say people didn’t do bad things, it’s just that they did them in the name of doing what was right. Think of Sayid shooting young Ben. No one would argue that shooting an unarmed 12 year old isn’t bad but he saw it as being for the greater good. Kate and Jack saw differently and tried to rescue him. I think the show was exploring the idea that people have different perceptions of what is good or right and sometimes those perceptions come into conflict, especially when you rigidly hold onto them. In TV and movies, you usually have a pretty good idea of who the good and bad guys are. Even in real life we’re used to lumping people into groups of “Others” or “evil doers” but, obviously, people are more complicated than that.

Even Jacob and the MIB couldn’t just be put into good or bad camps. In the end, they were just people who were victims of circumstance. The MIB never chose to have his soul severed from his body and turned into an evil smoke monster. Jacob was never any god or angel, he was just a person who tried to do his best guarding the Island. That leads me to something I thought was interesting, there were no hard and fast rules on the Island. Jacob formulated his rules as he thought best but they could change, as he told Kate in the previous episode. He probably did a better job than crazy Allison Janney and perhaps Hurley will do a better job than him. As Ben told Hurley when he accepted the job of protecting the island, “Maybe there’s another way, a better way.”  Even the people who were in charge of protecting that light were just giving it their best guess. No one had a monopoly on the truth.

I liked the way the show explored the idea of choice. Jacob was a big champion of free will. Smokey was more a fan of manipulating people through fear. Sidebar: I actually got the feeling that he sensed and ran on fear. It’s a great tool because it can easily turn into hate. He knew Desmond wasn’t afraid of him when they were at the well and I think he couldn’t turn into Smokey and kill him for that very reason.

They explored the idea of choice a great deal through the character of Sayid. Ever since he was a young boy, he thought other people saw him as a killer. Remember when his brother wouldn’t kill that chicken so he did it for him and his father congratulated him on being a real man? Throughout his whole life, that’s what people told him he was (Nadia was an exception) and he ran with it. He began to redeem himself on the Island but off-Island, Ben manipulated him into becoming his assassin. Later, Smokey would do the same thing. Hurley told him in their DIY purgatory that he could choose to be whoever he wanted. He wasn’t a killer because that was who he was, he was a killer because that’s what he was choosing to be. There’s always a choice in the matter. He could choose to be someone else. And in the end, he did. He chose to be someone who died to save the lives of his friends.

The more that I’ve thought about it, the more I liked the finale. I’ve heard some frustration and confusion over it, but I feel they resolved it well. There was redemption and hopefulness without tying everything up in a neat little bow. I feel that to have made the conclusion more concrete would have been at odds with what the show was about. In the end, no one really had any definitive answers to give. There were things that were just a mystery. But that’s like life. Who really can tell us exactly what the hell is going on here? People are just doing their best to interpret the mystery and often those interpretations come into conflict. While it might be a tad bit crazy to use Lost as a metaphor for life, I do think they tackled some of life’s big questions in interesting and thought-provoking ways. There’s still a lot to discuss and that is one of the reasons why I loved watching the show; it always made for a great discussion. 

Now that I’ve formulated my own thoughts, I’m going to pop over to Jeff Jensen’s column. He has the most ridiculously comprehensive recaps pulling out references to philosophy, theology, mythology, literature etc….that I would never understand. It’s basically a 400 level University course on Lost and I highly recommend it.

Aloha, Lost. Thank you for sucking up so much of my free time for the past 6 years. Perhaps now I’ll actually have enough time to get a full-time job.

We arrived at our hotel in Beijing quite late because of a delayed flight to find that there was no internet. I was trying to meet up with the Riverdance crew but all I had to go one was an email from the day before saying they might be at an Irish Bar (of course) that night. We decided to chance it so we threw our stuff down and headed to the bar. When we got there, I didn’t see any of my friends. Then I spotted someone I recognized from friends’ facebook photos. I figured he was my best bet for contacting them so I proceeded to introduce myself in a way that I’m sure would creep out any normal person.

Me: “Hi. I’m Katie. I used to sing in Riverdance and I recognize you from some friends’ photos on facebook (translation: I am your stalker). Do you know if X,Y, or Z are coming here tonight?”

Stunned Riverdancer: “Uh….I don’t think so. Most everyone’s gone home anyway.”

Me: “Ok. The internet in our hotel isn’t working. If I write a note for them would you deliver it?”

S.R. “Um….who are you again?”

We laughed about it later but seriously, who does that? Someone who’s desperate to see their friends, I guess.

It worked to our advantage that it wasn’t a big night anyway because the next day a group of us woke up at the crack of dawn (8!) to do a 7 mile hike of the Great Wall. Luckily, I was still able to squeeze in a couple nights with them.

But enough about me, let’s talk about Beijing. I didn’t have nearly as much time as I would have liked to explore Beijing but I still found it to be a really, really cool city. Lindsey, the aforementioned tour manager/translator, lived there for 4 years and took us to some great restaurants, neighborhoods and markets.

The evening after we hiked the Great Wall, she took us to Rumi, a Persian restaurant in the Chaoyang district. As much as I loved the Chinese food I’d been having, it was nice to be in a city with something besides Chinese food, Mc Donalds and KFC. Rumi totally hit the spot. We all went overboard ordering stews, kabobs, salads, hummus, FETA CHEESE! It was more than we were used to spending on a meal, way more. My 80 RMB bill came with some sticker shock. I had been used to 10 here for dumplings, 10 there for some grilled meat. But 80 RMB is about 12 dollars and 12 dollars for a fantastic meal in one of the world’s capital cities is not bad.

The next day I went with some folks to investigate the San Li Tun market. We had to be at the theater for soundcheck at 2 so time was limited. This is going to sound extremely shallow, but the thing I regret most about my time in Beijing is that I didn’t get more time to shop. I would have liked a solid day to spend in the markets. My goodness, the DEALS you could get and after five weeks, I was a well seasoned haggler.

Haggling was something I wasn’t comfortable with at first but in China, you haggle for nearly everything. I went from being skittish about it to lusting after the rush I got when procuring a good deal. You know that feeling you get when you buy something at Loemann’s and it gives you the “you saved this much off the retail price” thing at the end? Or when you find a BCBG dress at TJ Maxx for $40 that was originally $220 (Is this just me??)? Well, it’s better than that because you made it happen. Every time I would show someone something I bought I would have to explain, with pride, what I bargained it down from. “I talked them down from 220 to 80!”

They obviously inflate the prices to fit this game, and do so even more for whiteys. This is one of the reasons you need a whole day to shop. The haggling  process can take a while. Let me share with you  what I found to be the key to haggling well – The Walkaway. They will start high, then you go ridiculously low. You both creep towards to middle and if you get to the absolute highest price you will accept and they deny you, walk away. Most of the time, they will follow you and give it to you for that price. This is key. If you sit there and continually argue with them, they won’t take you as seriously. I can’t tell you how many times I heard Americans get more and more heated about a price without doing The Walkaway. One man I heard was so mad that he stormed off, the shop worked waited a beat and tried to catch up with him to give it to him for his asking price but he’d already made it out the door. He inadvertantly did The Walkaway and didn’t even know it.

After the show that night, we went to see some of Lindsey’s friends play at Mao Livehouse, a cool, laid back bar in the Gu Lou neighborhood. One our way to the show we spotted a Mexican restaurant, Amigo. Upon further examination, it looked like proper Mexican food, corn tortillas, fajitas, chilaquiles, MORE CHEESE, and a 15 yuan special on Mojitos we couldn’t pass up. I must admit, I didn’t eat  whole lot of Chinese food in Beijing. I did welcome to variety of options. Plus, I was nursing a serious dairy deficiency that needed to be filled. 

The next day I was able to meet up with another old friend of mine from my grade school days, Wes Smith, his wife Kasha and their adorable baby daughter, Berkley, but not after some difficulty.  We picked a subway station to meet outside of, a very specific one, the A exit of a certain line. Unbeknownst to us there were two A exits. How does that make sense? So after 30 minutes of waiting, I decided I had to find a way to call him. I  stopped someone walking out of the station with, “Ni hao….um…can I use your phone?” with the thumb-pinky phone thingy at my ear. The first person I stopped actually let me. It turned out Wes was inside the station looking for me. Easy fix! Except that when I went in, he wasn’t there. And when I came back outside, he wasn’t there either. Again, I stopped someone else to use their phone and not only was he obliging, he waited around while I tried to get ahold of him again which took a few calls. It left me thinking, if a Chinese tourist was in the same predicament as myself, standing outside a subway station in New York saying, “Hello!” then whatever “Can I use your phone?” is in Mandarin with the phone gesture thing at their head, would anyone actually stop?

After all that rigamaroll, we finally met up and went for a nice lunch at a Buddhist restaurant near the Lama Temple. Wes and Kasha seem to really love Beijing. Kasha teaches at an international school and while Wes was working and is thinking of going into teaching himself, right now he’s able to stay at home with Berkley. The cost of living there has afforded them the opportunity for one of them to stay home and also to have inexpensive care for Berkley when they need it.

Afterwards we walked around the Guanshuyuan Hutong. Hutongs are older neighborhoods in Beijing connected by narrow lanes and alley ways. Many of the homes are in the courtyard style with four buildings built around a courtyard. Some buildings still lack modern amenities, including bathrooms. There are communal bathrooms instead. Since the Cultural Revolution, many hutongs have been destroyed in favor of wider lanes and more modern apartment buildings. But some still remain and are actually protected.

The next day, our last day in Beijing, my band mate Eamonn and  I visited the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square. Like many uber-touristy sites, we found the headphone tour to be the best bet. Because we are total cheapskates, we just bought one and shared it. I listened and relayed the info to Eamonn.  

The Forbidden City is named as such because for nearly 500 years, from the Ming Dynasty to the Qing Dynasty, it was, well, forbidden. It is a palace complex that was home to the emperor, his family and servants (who were mostly eunuchs so they wouldn’t touch the ladies, ouch!). It was the seat of government in China and also a place for ceremonies.

I won’t lie, I haven’t retained much of the information I heard that day. I do remember that the middle, stone pathway was only to be used by the emperor but now tourists take photos on it all day long, tourists like this guy:

I can only imagine the emperors are rolling in their graves right now. I will direct you to Wikipedia if you would like to know more. Here are some photos snapped that day.

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

Forbidden City

Tiananmen Square

Later we met up with another friend of mine from high school, Jason Fetz, and his girlfriend, Laura, who are both teaching English in Changchun, which is about a 6 hour train ride north east of Beijing. They just happen to have been flying out of Beijing to Thailand the next day. Coincidence? Probably. But still, a pretty cool one. We went for Peking Duck, seeing as we were in Peking, and let me tell you, crispy duck dipped in sugar may sound gross  but it is fabulously delicious.

That night Jason, Laura, Wes and Kasha were all able to make it to the show. I must say it was pretty surreal and very special to have old friends see me perform in Beijing of all places. Oh and remember how I told you Chinese audiences are rather restrained? Well, I found the one thing that makes them break into raucous applause, the Beijing Olympics Song, especially when I sang the verse in Mandarin.By the way, doesn’t it sound like Sarah Brightman is doing an over-the-top impression of herself? I mean, I thought I had a good Sarah Brightman impression but Sarah Brightman has outdone me. I’m going to have to work on that. But I digress… The song was put in the encore in Beijing as a special touch. Holy crap. They went nuts. I’ve never have been in front of people who were more excited to hear me sing something. I even laughed into the microphone the first time we did it because I was so taken aback. It’s hard to take it personally, though, as the cheers seemed more for the song than anything else. So the performances in Beijing ended on a very high note, with old friends there and an exuberant audience.

That night we wrapped thing up at the Irish bar (of course) to celebrate the last night of the tour, as well as a few birthdays. Jason and Laura celebrated with us. Jason recounts the night’s events here in a much funnier way than I ever could.

I hope I’m lucky enough to have the opportunity to go back to Beijing. I would love to go when the weather is warm and spend more time exploring the city without any (or many) obligations. I would be willing to travel in someone’s suitcase. I will pay the overweight fee, or lose 80 pounds, which ever makes more sense at the time. Contact me directly if you think this sounds like something you’d be interested in.

After a little more research, I found a 7 mile hike between Jinshanling and Simitai. I read that the hike would take 4 hours because there are many ridiculously steep steps to traverse. This was just what I was looking for. I wanted it to be long. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted it to be seared into my brain so deeply that even when I’m 85 and senile and talking to lampshades, I’ll be talking to them about this awesome day when I hiked the Great Wall.

The problem, I thought, was going to be convincing other people to do this with me. It was early February and hovering around freezing in Beijing. I could understand why people wouldn’t want to venture out for that long in that kind of weather. But luckily 7 others decided to join me in the end.

I believe there are busses that will take you to those destinations, though perhaps only during the warmer months, but we were having a hard time finding them. With so little time to plan (we got in at about 10 the night before and headed straight to an Irish Bar (quelle suprise) to meet some cast members of Riverdance (no, there was not a dance-off)), we decided to give in a hire a couple taxis. Taxis are extremely cheap in China, even in cities like Shanghai and Beijing. If you are short on time and have a few people with you, it’s not a bad option. It was two hours there and back, and I believe it was about 800 or 900 RMB which it about 120 dollars, divided by four that’s $30 a piece to get to and from the Great Wall. Not bad.

The landscape became more and more mountainous as we drove further north from Beijing. After a couple hours I was scanning the horizon for a glimpse of the wall. At first glance, it looked treacherous, like perhaps-we-made-a-mistake-and-we-should-just-take-a-few-photos-and-turn-back treacherous. I was beginning to fear a mutiny but I learned quickly that it was not part of our hike.

Not part of our hike. Phew!

After being dropped off we quickly made our way to the wall. We had gotten kind of a late start (remember the Irish bar from the last night?) and we figured the sun was going to set around 6, leaving us about 5 hours. We couldn’t have asked for a better day considering the time of year. It was about 40 degrees and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

As we were walking through the park to the wall, we noticed some other people had joined us. A woman came up to me, speaking very good English, explaining that they were local farmers. Her name was Shirley. She explained that they were going to join us on our hike of the Great Wall, that they were going to “help” us. “Help us what?”, I asked. “Help you climb!” Hmmmm…I was not interested in anyone helping me climb but I thought they wouldn’t be with us for long. How naive of me.

It just so happened there was one farmer for every one of us. Coincidence? Of course not. As they assisted us up particularly steep paths and offered to take photos of us, they were also attempting to endear themselves to us. Shirley kept saying, “You’re so nice! I’m so glad I’m your farmer! Can I take your photo? So pretty! You know, my corn crop was very bad this year…..” You get the idea.

About 20 minutes in we were trying to hatch a plan on how to lose them. One of the dancers, Nessa, whose farmer seemed to be the oldest there, decided she was going to try to make a run for it. Oh, silly tourist…these people have obviously been doing this their whole lives giving them freakishly strong legs such that, even at 70 years old, Irish dancers can’t out run them.

Nessa trying to escape her farmer

After the failed getaway attempt, I asked Shirley how long, exactly, they were planning on helping us. “The whole way!” she replied. At this point it had become clear that the only way to gain our freedom was to buy it. Oh yes, I have failed to mention till now that they just happened to be carrying huge bags full of souvenirs. I gathered the troops and explained that unless we bought their crap, they were going to be attached to us for the next 4 hours. Everyone agreed to buy something so we engaged in the customary haggling process, bought some souvenirs and left the farmers behind. I am now proud owner of a “I climbed the Great Wall” t-shirt.

Farmers and Tourists

After we left the farmers, we didn’t see a soul till we got to Simitai. We had the wall to ourselves. It was almost surreal. If you’re ever thinking of visiting the Great Wall I would highly recommend this hike. There are passages that are incredibly steep that will leave you huffing and puffing and your thighs burning but they aren’t impossible.
While it was difficult, someone who is reasonably in shape could do.  There are patches in the middle that haven’t been well kept up but there was nothing that seemed dangerous.

As I was walking, I would force myself to stop and try to be very conscious of what I was doing. “You’re on the Great frigging Wall of China. Take this in!” It’s like I was afraid I wouldn’t fully realize the beauty and grandeur around me and I’m not sure one can, though there is probably a permanently, fully-conscious Buddhist monk out there who would disagree with me. But it was beautiful and it was grand and it did hurt and I will always remember it and the lovely people I was able to share it with, even Shirley.

I was eager to spend the night outside of the city but few people seemed keen on it. In the end just three of us Lindsey, Eamonn and myself decided to go overnight and a few others were going to meet us the next day. We were told that there was a bus that went directly from Nanning to the mountain we wanted to hike up (the name escapes me…) every fifteen minutes from the bus station. That sounded easy enough except that it was a lie. As soon as we tried to buy our bus tickets I knew this was not going to go as planned. The woman selling tickets was so obviously annoyed with us that no language barrier could disguise it. The thing is, we were conducting this in Mandarin. It’s not like she was annoyed that we were like, “WE NEED TICKET. FOR HERE. PLEASE. THANK YOU.” She was just like, “Ugghhhhh. It’s too complicated. Why do you want to go there anyway? Can’t you just come back tomorrow? It’s too many buses. I don’t want to sell you these tickets.” All this was very surprising because I had, for the most part, found Chinese people to be ridiculously accommodating, like, keep-the-hotel-bar-open-till-6-in-the-morning-for-crazy-Irish-dancers accommodating or strangers-carrying-my-60lb-suitcase-up-the-stairs-at-the-train-station accommodating. In hind sight, she was kind of right, it was very complicated, but seriously, just give us the tickets.

The journey consisted of two buses and then a tuk-tuk. I’m not sure if that’s actually what they’re called. They’re basically a cart with two benches and a tarp thrown over it pulled by a motorbike. The tuk-tuk driver informed us that the village we were trying to go was at the top of the mountain, not the bottom as we had originally thought (following some misleading advice from Lonely Planet) and would be another hour and a half. He said he could take us to another, closer town that night and we could sort out the mountain business tomorrow. We agreed that was the best idea.

He took us to a village called Mashan and to a guest house he said he believed had taken in white people before. As we pulled up to the guesthouse Eamonn said, “Wait….is that…a white guy sweeping that sidewalk?” When we stopped we realized it was indeed a white man, and there were to young Chinese women who spoke really good English. We discovered we were at the You family’s guest house. They had two daughters, Summer and MeiMei. They were both married to Americans. Summer and Casey (the white man we had seen sweeping) had been married for 4 years and lived in Oregon but had just had their wedding party in Mashan that very day, in fact, it had just ended and fireworks were still randomly going off across the street.

The You's Guesthouse

We felt a little awkward staying there on such an occasion but they assured us that it was fine and since we were Americans we were like family. We sat and chatted with Casey while they got the room ready. A neighbor came over to join us. He was the local doctor, the best friend on their father and, incidentally, very, very drunk. He proceeded to tell us that America was #1 over and over and over and over and over. We noticed there was an older woman patiently waiting behnd us. Finally, she summoned Summer who interupted us saying that she needed the doctor immediately because, get this, this woman’s husband had FALLEN OUT OF A MOVING CAR and needed help badly. But he kept going and we were like, we get it! We are number one! We have the dialing code to prove it!  Now please, please help this woman!

Lindsey, the Doctor and the Woman Whose Husband Fell Out Of A Moving Car

We went to the local barbeque stand in town with Summer and Casey for dinner.  It was pretty busy and there where loads of kids from the town who were daring each other to come up to us.

Eamonn showing the girls some steps

The next day they suggested we visit a local cave. It was interesting and beautiful but I was really anxious to get outside. We started to walk the few miles back because it was a gorgeous day. We were surrounded by rice paddies.

We realized that we were burning daylight, though, so we tried our hand at hitchhiking. It didn’t take long before we were picked up by a large truck. Somehow I ended up the only one without a seat, forced to kneel on a shoe, some pop cans and other assorted garbage with my face two inches from the windshield as I prayed we wouldn’t hit anything. Luckily, it was only moments later that we were in Mashan. We decided to stroll through the sugar cane fields just outside of the village.

Back at the You’s, they were preparing a dinner for all the people that helped with the wedding. They invited us to eat with them before we left. It was quite a spread and a wonderful way to end our stay.

Food Galore

Casey and the Ever-Smiling Mrs. You

We had to ship off pretty quickly, though, as it was getting late and we had to get back to Nanning that night. We attempted to hitchhike to no avail. We then took a tuk-tuk to the next town and ended up hiring a taxi to take us back out of sheer desperation. We were kind of bummed that our adventure ended in an air conditioned mini-van but we also needed to be responsible. 

I’m really glad we seized the opportunity to get out of town. When in another country, I usually  prefer spending time in the countryside to cities. The only down-side it that it gave me a hankering for a real back-packing adventure. Unfortunately, I haven’t yet found a way to get paid to vacation. I’m going to have to work on that.