Wildlife

Nurse Shark in Sydney Aquarium

"Always wear sun block: Sydney is the world capital of skin cancer, swim between the flags and stay away from the spiders." This was Gary's advice before leaving us to our first day in Australia. Twenty four hours later we had already our first meeting with the local fauna. Sara deserves honorary citizenship after the baptism of Tasmanian Sea. After just five minutes on Coogee Beach she was stung by a Bluebottle, a jellyfish (or rather a 'Colony of medusoids' as the sour puff in Wylies Baths pointed out "It's not dangerous!"), known even as 'Portuguese Man O'War'. Forty minutes of screams, ammonia and cortisone later, the child started to finally calm down. Today she is fine again and proudly displays a fire-red bracelet around the lower part of her right leg as an original form of body art. Not bad as a first day, even if it could have been worse... a lot worse in fact!

Despite the fact that they are really everywhere and the most common terror associated with Australia, sharks are responsible of just one fatality per year (apparently all Japanese tourists). As far as flamboyant killers are concerned, Australians talk with much more respect of salties, the crocodiles that live at the estuaries of rivers. A few years ago there was a particularly cranky one somewhere near Darwin. One day, bothered by the engines of big off shores, he bit one and took away the whole back part of the boat. After the incident, they decided to put him to a better use and now he is stuffed and on display in a museum. Into his open jaws can comfortably walk in a man of medium height.

The ones that statistically do the biggest damage are the insects. Amongst my favourites: "Red Back", a small (-ish!) spider belonging to the family of the Black Widow, found in gardens and houses. A single bite will send you to hospital or, failing to find an antidote, to the other world. "Sydney Funnel Web Spider", even worse but they assure me it's not that common to meet one. While the Red Back behaves like a normal spider, biting only when threatened, the Funnel Web is aggressive and often comes for you. The antidote was only recently discovered and since then there haven't been any deaths associated with this spider.

Two more cute marine creatures that will kill you as quick as look at you are the 'Box Jelly Fish", a small one but carrying a mortal venom and the "Blue Ringed Octopus", an octopus that carries enough venom to kill twenty adults in a few minutes. In the right season, both of these creatures are carried to shore by the waves and they can be found on the beach. I start asking myself if we'll be able to survive the next three months!

More Photos...

... and from the water!



Sydney Harbour from the ferry


... and from Ludi and Gary's balcony.

THE Picture...

... from different points of view.

Sydney Harbour Bridge


Opera House from Circular Quay


... from Botanic Gardens


The CBD


... and again!

Randwick Residents

Another ten hour flight, Qantas this time and boy, were we impressed!, and without even realizing it we find ourselves in the second part of the trip. The lack of jet lag is a welcome change. The welcome committee came to collect us in Sydney Airport: Ludi and Gary came to meet us and after a glass of wine, obviously Australian, left us to take possession of the two rooms plus balcony that for the next few weeks we'll call home. At last we emptied the suitcases and put our things in cupboards and drawers. Nina and Sara rediscovered TV and all the cartoons they normally watch back home. The washing machine is already overworked. We are on Alison Road, in the quarter of Randwick, 20 minutes by bus from Circular Quay and 10 from Coogee beach. It's raining at the moment, but it is still hot and from the window opened on the communal garden we have already heard the first kookaburra laugh. The atmosphere is no different from many inner suburbs of London or Wexford Street in Dublin. On Belmore Road, which we discovered today, coffee shops, Lebanese, Chinese and Thai take-aways alternate to laundrettes, travel agencies and small corner shops. Grannies with their shopping trolleys, children eating ice-creams and backpackers stroll in the street, in and out of the shops. Despite the unmissable Vodafone Shop, the quarter has a very authentic atmosphere, of a place where people really live, love and work, not like an antiseptic, anonymous shopping centre. We did our shopping on foot, buying from the baker, the local green grocers that has a huge variety of tropical fruit and veggies rarely seen before. We had our first latte and made the first discoveries: a sushi bar and a shop selling Italian goods like buffalo mozzarella and Parma ham. Even Nina and Sara helped us carrying the bags. Once back home, we had dinner on the balcony and after having cooked for the first time in three weeks, we can say we have definitely settled into our new Australian life.

Five Pills to Survive China

And we are nearly at the end of the first stop, all in one piece and within budget. After having seen the Bund, the French Concession, Pearl Tower and the old city, the last thrill that Shanghai has to offer will be the Maglev Train (some are more excited than others), the magnetic levitation train that will take us to Pudong International Airport. After having kicked the cases in a fit of rage (mine) in Yichang Airport, finally we got rid of some stuff and sent home the first parcel. I am more and more convinced that the only essential things are passport and credit cards, the rest is useless. Even more, it's a burden. Anything can be bought and abandoned on the way.


Having said that, now a few lines to share the wisdom of three weeks in China:


1) Public toilets are disgusting and the place is in general very polluted. I don't have the numbers, and probably the official ones differ from the real ones a great deal, but they must be dying by the thousands of respiratory problems caused by the poisonous air of the big cities.


2) To avoid the curse of Shi Huang Di, never put into your mouth water that is not boiled or bought, not even to brush your teeth. Eat only where the locals do, even in the streets, but avoid any kind of raw food. Westerner cuisine is available almost everywhere (even chains like Pizza Hut, Starbucks, McDonald's etc), but it costs like in Europe and it is neither as clean nor as tasty as the local one.

3) Even if they spit everywhere and they really do not know how to queue, (they'll try to stampede you but if you complain firmly they politely stand aside), Chinese people are very open and curious about foreigners. We never felt threatened or in danger, not even in the dodgy parts of Beijing or Shanghai, maybe because they have a more refined, almost elegant way of stealing money from us laowei=foreigners... that brings me to the next point:

4) Always haggle every price, in shops, but even restaurants, hotels and taxis:

"How much to take me to the airport?"
"150."
"90!"
"150!!"
"90, and if you make me miss my plane I won't give you even those!!!"
"OK, 90."
Even this way, as soon as you lower your guard, and in three weeks it has happened only too often, they take you for a ride.

5) Very few speak English, the little they speak is a more or less incomprehensible form of Chinglish. Even signs and information are rarely translated. DO NOT ATTEMPT THIS AT HOME WITHOUT SOME CHINESE!! All the independent travelers we met had at least a bit of Chinese.

Various:
Unless you have some specific reasons, like a timetable similar to our own, avoid winter and summer as the weather is extreme.


Hotels, hostels and guesthouses:
Beijing: Novotel Xinqiao
Xi'an; Bell Tower Hotel
Chengdu: Sim's Cozy Guesthouse
Yangtze: Victoria Cruise
Shanghai: The Seventh Heaven
The only cash machine who speaks English: Bank of China
Chain of Japanese restaurants cheap and clean: Ramen Ajisien
For the first time the Rough Guide disappointed us. Imprecise and not up to date, we often had to improvise.

The heroes of our three weeks in China:
Beiyan who prevented a disaster by booking our transfers from Beijing to Xi'an, Xi'an-Chengdu, Yichang-Shanghai.
Jolin from Yatour that called on the phone to fill in the gaps in Brendan's Chinese that blocked the queue at the ticket office in the station, helped us to book the train from Chengdu to Chongqing.
Luther from Victoria Cruise, who let us out from the engine room of the ship and shouted for a taxi before we even docked, allowing us not to miss the plane for Shanghai.
Sim, because whoever can offer a bed and hot water for 5 euro per night, practically free food and make a profit, deserves to be a hero!
Brendan, 'wo de laogong', without whose irritating talent for speaking foreign languages we would have never survived 3 weeks of China without a scratch.

Thanks to all of those who left a comment, above all the new arrivals: Mauro, Luigi and Silvia, but even Max, Luz, Gio, Mamma, Ivan and Giangi. As soon as I'll be out from behind the Firewall I'll start to reply to everybody :-)

Next post from Sydney

Beijing: The Forbidden City











Tea House in Chengdu





Dian Dian




"How many of these will I have to kiss?!"




Shanghai: View from the Seventh Heaven




Loonie in Beijing Tea House




Backpackers

Pannacotta Warriors

The thing we just can't get over as far as the children are concerned is their normal behaviour. All in all, they seem to be the same, just like at home. After having fallen asleep a couple of times with their heads on the table, they got over the jet lag quicker than us. They are pleasantly surprised by the interest they generate in the locals but every now and again they complain about somebody who goes too far hugging them without permission to take a photo.
They eat more or less anything, baozi and Gong Bao chicken becaming their favourites, but given the chance they still prefer to go to McDonald's and sometimes we give in and take them there. After one of the first days, when coming back from the Great Wall we had to get off a bus in an unknown suburb of Beijing and strip Sara in the middle of the road with -5C because she couldn't keep it in anymore. They are learning not only to eat but even to go to the toilet when possible rather than when they'd like to. In general, they have learned to exercise patience because in this kind of situation, often they can't satisfy a need when it arises the same way they would at home. They walk for kilometres in the cold and the rain, they don't complain about the limited wardrobe, asking to change their vest only when it smells of Pringles.
Whenever we go out in busy cities, they latch onto our hands and don't let go until we get back to our hotel. For now they seem happy enough with our company and don't look for their friends, even if they have already sent a few emails and written a couple of blog entries for their classes. Nina acquired a passion for flea markets and haggling, Sara still prefers big department stores. They do their homework, they read Harry Potter and the Famous Five, they play with their Nintendo DSs and bicker, like at home. They are curious and interested in the new things they see, but they are more concerned with what they'll have for dessert, exactly like at home.

Chinglish

We have so far seen many examples of Chinglish but this one stands out:



After we spent the morning looking for a phantom tourist bus that should have taken us for a trip around the city, we arrived to Chenghuang Miao, another Chinatown for Chinese, where Brendan insisted in going for lunch to a place that according to the Book of Lies served authentic food. The girls and I, tired, cold, wet, and glancing longingly at a McDonalds, reluctantly followed him. When we finally arrived at our destination, we found this sign on a window of a canteen where people pushed their way through a crowd to get in:



"Dumplings stuffed with the ovary and digestive glands of a crad"



After a general mutiny we ended up in Kentucky Fried Chicken.

Shanghai

After a week in the heart deep and spicy of China we arrive to Shanghai and WOW! It's like being beamed into another universe. More modern and sparkly than a European capital, with shops and cosmopolitan restaurants at every street corner, it seems well capable of satisfying any caprice. For the following 7 days, the Seventh Heaven, found in a French guide abandoned in Sim's library, will be our home. We are on the Nanjing Dong Lu, once a dangerous quarter frequented by sailors, now the most famous shopping street in China. The first 24 hours were definitely positive: we were pleasantly surprised with the first real cappuccino after the last one drank in Sardinia last September. Later we bought 1000 Nintendo DS Games for 60 euro, to Nina and Sara's delight.

We don't have any special ambitions for the next few days, we just want to explore the city at our leisure and take it easy. The days on the river have been intense, packed with excursions and guided tours, all laced with a cold that challenged even our extreme weather gear. Keeping an eye on our daughters while surrounded by water required our constant vigilance. Whenever given the chance, Sara ran on deck mimicking Kate on the stern of the boat, maybe hoping that Leo would save her, but having to settle in the end for her parents' telling off.

Three Days on the Yangtze

Fengdu - the city of ghosts.











Gorges of the Yangtze

From Travellers to Tourists

Trains stress me out. Chinese trains send me into a panic. Chengdu Station is better than the Beijing one, but people are the same: they push, they can't queue and passing the security checks with 80kg luggage while trying not to lose your daughters is a nightmare. Luckily the only tickets left were the expensive ones (5 euro a ticket for a 4 hour journey!) so we could use the VIP lounge where we spent a couple of hours before departure. Once again we were the only Westerners around, once again people were open, curious, almost anxious to make friends. After the initial faff getting settled into your seat, the train is always a good place to have a chat, to observe and learn something about the locals. Within the first hour, Brendan had engaged his neighbours into a debate on regional variations of Chinese cuisine. Soon even another four from the next row joined the discussion and half of the carriage was happily talking food. Sara and I, without any chance to contribute, were busy doing her maths homework under the scrutiny of our travel companions who commented on every page of the maths book, giving us big smiles every time Sara got the answers right. Getting off the train, everybody helped us with the luggage.

In Chongqing, our destination, we switched worlds. At the station, the tour operator came to collect us to bring us to the boat where we'll be spending the next three days on the Yangtze River, through the Three Gorges Dam, all the way to Yichang where we'll finally catch a flight to Shanghai. For the first time since we left home we give in to the luxury of delegating all responsibility, while putting ourselves in the capable hands of the organizers of the cruise. The idea of being just passengers for the next three days is pleasant but at the same time it feels odd to stick to somebody else's timetable. Even our travel mates are different from before, mostly English speaking and part of a group tour. The contrast with the atmosphere cultural-hippy from Sim's Garden Hostel is dramatic. The change requires a mental readjustment. Apart from everything, it is simply wonderful being able to dump your dirty jeans into the laundry bag to find them magically cleaned and ironed some hours later!

Chengdu

The city is a black hole, there is no arguing with it. We got here from Xi'an by plane and immediately were suffocated by the smog in the air that sticks to your throat making breathing difficult. Chengdu seems to embody all the negative traits of China that we had so far escaped. The city is dirty, humid with a polluted fog that constantly shades the sun.

But apart from that, even Chengdu has its good side. The panda bears and the Giant Buddha of Leshan delivered on their promise. We saw the pandas from up close in a breeding colony on the outskirts of the city. It was a half day trip where we were all very taken with these giant teddies.

The statue of the Buddha was the most striking site so far. We reached the town of Leshan after a 4 hour journey in a car without any suspension. The motorway was closed due to fog and the driver had to take an alternative route through alleys clogged by traffic. Chinese people drive like crazy, overtaking on both sides, often even in the emergency lane. There seem to be no rules except the one that the biggest on the road has right of way. First buses, then cars, motorbikes and bicycles. Pedestrian do not count and every time you cross the road you take your life into your hands. Even getting off a bus, bicycles run you over without even slowing down.

The statue of the Buddha is 70 mt tall, sculpted in the mountain side and 1300 years old. It is inside a park with other temples and manicured gardens, at the end of a long staircase carved from the same rock as the statue.


The other cool thing about Chengdu is our guesthouse. At our arrival, after getting over the shock of seeing two pigs playing with a puppy in the garden, we immediately entered in the spirit of Sim's Cozy Guesthouse and mingled with its population. The washing machine is not as good as the one at home, the whole place is a bit of a mess because they just moved here, but staff are very friendly and welcoming and the food is to die for! Sechuanese cuisine is known worldwide as one of the best in China: it definitely didn't disappoint us. All dishes are very spicy because they are full of chili and sechuan pepper, but the flavours are original and well defined, the ingredients are fresh and even the vegetables don't lose their taste despite the spices. Sim's chef seems to be particularly gifted and able to concoct anything on the menu at any hour of the day or night. Here we have dinner, the four of us, with 4 euro including beer, while we sleep for 20e per night. Our favourite hangout is the Japanese style room on the second floor above the bar where sitting on the big cushions on the floor we eat, play mahjong or write a blog entry. Sara became best friends with Dian Dian, the puppy that was playing with the pigs on the first day. Every now and then he grabs the bottom of her jeans and doesn't let go until we lift her up. By now we look like real backpackers. Shame that tomorrow we have to leave.

Xi'an

We got to Xi'an after a 12 hour trip by night train. Beijing Western Station was quite difficult to negotiate. It's as big as an airport and extremely busy with not so disciplined crowds even at nine o'clock in the evening. With luggage and kids in tow it was no joke. We were the only Westerners around and in the departure lounge people were as usual keen on trying their English while others just stared at us as if we were a traveling circus. The night on the train was comfortable, much more so than the last equivalent European trip I did.




We spent the day walking around the city, one of the richest and most industrialized of the whole country. The centre is divided between a commercial area with department stores, designer shops and all the international chains like Starbucks and MacDonald's, and the Muslim quarter, a maze of shops and stalls of food and local handicraft. There we learned a hard lesson in the art of haggling. We saw a set of chopsticks we liked in one of the first stalls, for the price of 240Y (24E), found them again in another stall 180Y, bought for 140, convinced that we really clever and getting a good deal, only to see them around the corner for 65! As soon as I realized the mistake I started to say "NOOO!", more to myself than anybody else but the girl in the shop, thinking that I was complaining about the price, started to come down, "Ok then, 50, 40..." The more she lowered the price, the more I despaired. The more I despaired, the more she lowered the price. When we arrived at 35 I explained to her that I had no intention of buying because I had already bought them somewhere else. She finally understood what was happening and it ended in a good laugh. Now we haggle for everything, even bottled water. If they ask 200 we offer 20 and in the end we always win. When they part with the goods with bad grace, then you probably paid the fair price. You pay for lessons and so far we clocked up about 50E in stuff that we could surely have got cheaper.


Terracotta Warriors





Nina eating a rice pudding bought on a street stall in the Muslim Quarter. We all had lunch on the street for a grand total of 2 euro. Let's hope we escape the curse of Qin Shi Huang Di...

Last Hours in Beijing

Sitting at a table in Pizza Hut (yes, we succumbed once more to the call of the West), we pass time before boarding the train that will bring us to Xi'an. We spent the day between the Forbidden City and the Temple of Yong He Gong where Sara was fascinated by the Buddha. Between my two daughters she is definitely the one that takes her religion more seriously, while after her first communion, Nina professes herself agnostic. I was observing them today while they watched, transfixed, the golden statues and their fruit and flowers offerings, the faithful who burned incense while praying. I saw how, for the first time, they really understood what we tried to teach them all along, that different people have different beliefs but no less valid than our own and the world is big enough for everybody.

We really liked Beijing but it is time to leave it behind. Even in transit, sitting at a table of a public restaurant as the only fixed point, I strangely feel at home. I think for the others it's the same. Brendan reads his book and the girls are drawing, nobody seems bothered by the precariousness of the situation. Very early on, at the beginning of this experience, we are learning how feeling at home is a mental state and has little to do with a specific place. Feeling at home in our own heads seems to be what counts. Once that happens we realize we don't need much more.

Chinese Cuisine

After the first day, I had resigned myself to a diet of boiled rice and green tea for the next three weeks. In an attempt to cushion the culture shock on the girls, we stupidly tried to eat Western food, with at best mediocre results. But after our first dinner it was clear that it would be impossible to continue with these highly improbable dishes that were vaguely European and distinctly bad news for our livers. There was nothing for it but to surrender to Chinese cuisine. After two days, we are all converted. Completely different to what is on offer in Europe, here it's much healthier, without that fast-food taste of MSG. Below you can find a picture of my favourite breakfast these days: spring rolls, baozi (little balls of steamed rice filled with fruit compote), fritters and custard pie.

My adaptation to this new culture has gone one step further. Despite the many kilos of medicine that I brought, I needed a pharmacy. Just finding one was an adventure: we had to head for Qianmen (a type of Chinatown, if that isn't a contradiction in terms!), decidedly outside the standard tourist sites, where for the first time we had confirmation of the reported fact that the Chinese continuously hawk and spit on the ground. This behaviour has been recently banned, in preparation for the Olympics, so as not to horrify Westerners. The ban has worked in the tourist areas where fines are enforced, but away from them, people fall back into their old habits. The pharmacy was part of a large department store that seemed out of Stalin's Russia, with two shop-assistants who looked like Red Cross nurses from the Great War. I explained my problem to the one who seemed to have a few words of English, and she asked me:
"Do you want Chinese or Western Medicine?"
At first I looked at her as if she were joking, but then the spirit of adventure (or desperation) got the better of me: "I don't care - as long as it works". She wrote out a pair of characters on a slip of paper, and sent me to another counter where they handed me a box of tablets identical to what we might expect to find at home, but entirely in Chinese. When I realised that I had no way of figuring out what exactly it was that I was about in ingest, I returned to my Red Cross Nurse of the Great War and asked her what was in the tablets: "Antibiotic? Anti-inflammatory?"
She looked at me, confused, without reply.
"Herbs?" I suggested.
"Yes. Chinese herbs."
That was enough for me. In that moment I would have tried cyanide, if that's what they had given me". Three days later, the problem is resolved. Whatever it was, it worked.



After the Great Wall, we visited the Temple of Heaven and the Summer Palace. Beautiful places, wonderful architecture, but as ever it was the people who fascinated me. The park around the Temple of Heaven, for example, was full of people practicing Tai Chi, taking waltz lessons, some were singing in groups, others simply playing cards - all of them making the most of the sunshine, despite the cold.

Last night we met Beiyan who brought us to a restaurant to eat authentic Peking Duck, roasted and caramelized, sliced into small pieces and placed into rice pancakes with plum sauce and vegetables. The only one who didn't like it was Sara who, under the influence of jetlag, fell asleep with her head on the table before beginning to eat.

Good Morning China!

[Original Blog Entry Monday December 30 by Letizia. Translated by Brendan. ]

It's four in the morning and we finally concede to the jetlag and surrender to Greenwich Mean Time: The girls are playing on their Nintendos in the other room, Brendan is studying the guide, and I'm writing my first post on the road. China has welcomed us with open arms. After 10 hours of half-light on the airplane, we landed in Beijing to the kind of beautiful sunlight that we haven't seen in Ireland since September. At the passport check we were waved through with wide smiles. We noticed a button on the policeman's kiosk that we could press in the event that we weren't satisfied with our treatment. Our suitcases arrived even before we did, and soon afterwards we were already in a taxi called by an airport official whose job seemed to entail helping passengers in whatever way necessary.

Brendan passed his first test in Chinese with flying colours, chatting with the taxi driver while the kids and I were giggling in the back. Once in the hotel, we colonized our room, opening the suitcases and taking out books, slippers, computer and the various other items that for the next months will constitute our home. They are exactly those things that differentiate between a normal holiday and what we are doing - vital for helping us at least feel as if we are not always in a hotel, but difficult to drag across four continents. I'm already thinking impatiently about the first parcel that we'll send home.

Despite the tiredness - for us it was 2 in the morning and none of us had slept on the plane - we headed out and reached Tiananmen Square by foot. Very quickly we realised that we were amongst the very few Westerners around. Locals looked at us with intense curiosity, especially at the girls, and more than once we were stopped in order to have our picture taken with complete strangers. Nina: "I feel like I'm Avril Lavigne!". When we got to the square, the souvenir vendors descended on us, and for the second time we saw the proof of Brendan's Chinese. Along with the language, he also acquired the ability to haggle, without which you can't survive here. From him we learned the magic words to free ourselves from the vendors. When nothing else works; no, no thank you, I don't want it, just say bu yao! with a certain authority, and they vanish. First they freeze, silent, and then they disappear. He assures me that we're not being rude, but I'm not convinced.

The cold at that point was too much, as was the tiredness, so we took shelter in a nearby subway station. Once inside, nobody was inclined to venture back out into the cold and so Brendan gave his final demonstration of his command of the language: with the map of the subway on the wall, in Chinese, he managed to get us back to the hotel, changing train along the way. Needless to say we were the only Westerners around. I don't know if I'll be able to compete with this when it's my turn to translate in South America.

Insurance

From the very beginning it was clear that the problem wasn't easily solved. All the insurance packages seem to be made for students backpackers or retired people who go to Lanzarote for two weeks. Families going on holidays for three weeks at the time are also catered for, but backpacking families are definitely out of any scheme. In the end we had to go through a local broker, O'Leary Insurances that found a tailored made solution to our problems: a policy that will cover medical expenses for the eight months up to 6.350.000 per person, repatriation, but even covers luggage, passports, credit cards, cancellation, legal fees and civil responsibility up to 2,5M E. It covers even activities like skiing and scuba diving. Last but not least, we'll have a person on the other side of the phone to deal with if things go wrong. Always better than dealing with an agency in England where every time you ring up you deal with a different person after having being put on hold for ages. Total cost 1000e.

Listening to: The Cure, Friday I'm in love

A Puff of white smoke from the Magic Dragon

Anybody who lives abroad and has regular dealings with consulates knows very well how frustrating the experience can be. If bureaucracy is heavy in the country of origins, it's guaranteed that in the respective consulate it has the specific gravity of lead. Not to mention all the other national defects that for whatever reason when exported abroad become worse (It's not my place, who cares?), and when concentrated in a public and happy island like the consulate they reach maximum potential. In the Italian Embassy in Dublin they put Catarella to answer the phones so that to whoever calls, my country introduces itself with an individual that doesn't speak either Italian or English, when in a good mood he grunts, when God forbid you find him in a bad mood he showers you with insults: "For f*** sake, who the f*** is it now? Can't you leave me in peace today?"

The Chinese consulate doesn't seem any better. Located in Dublin, it doesn't accept visa applications by post, you should go there in person to apply and the go back 5 working days later to collect the passport. They concede to use a courier, which is the solutions we chose: cost 100E, plus 130E for the visas.

Because of the money involved, we wanted to be double sure that the documents we wanted to send were ok, so about a month ago we started to try and inform ourselves by phone. On their website they give the opening times to the public and the ones when they answer the phones. No matter how many times we tried though nobody came to answer our calls. After a week of no luck, Brendan sent an email with a list of our documentation, details of flights and itinerary, asking if it was enough to get our visas. They answered within minutes with a clear yes. So we sent our courier and after ten days with no answer I asked Brendan: "Still no news from the Chinese consulate? The five days are up."
"Don't worry, maybe it takes a bit longer, you'll see that...SHIT!!"
"WHAT?!"
"I forgot to include pictures!"

We sent an email profusely apologizing for the oversight, telling them we put the pictures in the post that day and asking them to please join them with the application they received nearly two weeks previously.
Red Dragon: "Bring pictures when you came to collect passports. Mon-Thurs 9 to 12."
Green Shamrock: "Thanks for the suggestion, but it will be a courier to collect the passports, can't we send the pictures in the post and then collect by courier?"
Red Dragon: "We don't accept applications by post."
Green Shamrock: "The application is not by post, it's just the pictures. You already received the application by courier, can you please accept the pictures by post?"
SILENCE...PLEASE...SILENCE...PLEASE, PLEASE...
Green Shamrock: "Tell me now if you are going to accept the damn pictures by post or I have to come to Dublin to bring them myself!"
Red Dragon: "Give pictures to person who comes to collect the passports."
Green Shamrock: "Who comes to collect the passports is a courier who already charged me 50e to bring you the application and 50 to collect the visas! If I bring him the pictures now he is going to charge me another 50!! Can't you please put together the pictures that now surely have with the application you've had for the last 2 weeks??"

SILENCE

Finally Brendan sent another email starting again with the apologies and politely explaining that we needed an answer straight away because if they insisted in receiving the pictures directly one of us had to get on a plane and bring them to Dublin as it was cheaper then sending a courier (God Bless Ryanair!).

With money coming into the equation we find a way to communicate and finally they empathize with our problem: "Brendan, this is incredible! I thought much cheaper sending pictures by courier! As you already have put them in the post it's ok."
An hour later we got an email to say that the the visas were ready.

Indulgences of Modern Times

I was asked if with all the miles we'll cover in the next eight months we have considered buying credits for the emissions of CO2 that we'll cause. On the British Airways website there is a link for a company called Climate Care, which is one of the biggest ones providing this service in the UK. The idea is: by using "government published figures to convert units of energy to CO2 emissions", they tell you how much you pollute when traveling, but even staying at home (using electricity, gas and oil), and they allow you to pay a fee to offset your emissions. The money goes to finance projects to reduce the CO2 emissions in different parts of the world. The goal is to reach a carbon neutral situation where your emissions are neutralized by the green projects you support.

The idea is good, but putting it into practice is another matter and what I saw didn't convince me. The companies offering the service are all private ones and they operate according to schemes that cannot be verified or monitored and some of them turned out to be fraudulent, ineffective or even self defeating, (see The Guardian "The inconvenient truth about carbon offset industry"). Among all the different CO2 emissions, already difficult to calculate by the IPCC own admission, the ones caused by air travel are the most difficult to calculate because depending on altitude and amount of cargo (see FAQ on Climate Care). Even more difficult to establish is the amount of CO2 offset somewhere else. The most popular projects are the ones that plant trees, that naturally get rid of CO2, but the amount is unmeasurable especially because the companies doing it, offset immediately all the CO2 that the tree will process in a 100 years lifespan. A scheme to plant trees in Ecuador(see World Rainforest Movement) has been accused of evicting thousands of small farmers and manage plantations where the CO2 released by the soil is superior to the one absorbed by the trees. The founder of Climate Care, Mike Mason, said that planting trees as a form of offsetting is a waste of time and energy, but unfortunately people love it.

Other projects like the ones that aim to discourage the use of highly polluting fuels for domestic use in India or Africa, are even more difficult to realize because they require the cooperation of the locals. From what I have seen so far, I do not believe that we can trust private companies with offsetting our CO2 and I agree with those who compare it with the medieval practice of buying indulgences in order to keep on sinning with a clear conscience, (see Denis Hays in The New York Times). You can call me Eco-vandal, but until the subject won't be regulated by law and managed by a government, until the cost of CO2 won't be shared proportionally between who causes it and who makes money on it (in 2005 when the scheme was launched BA bought credits for the year that didn't even cover their London-NY routes in a day), I won't feel like punishing myself for the next 8 months.

Porquè quieres aprender l'espanol? Porquè el chino no me gusta.

I can't remember if the egg came first or the chicken did: if Brendan started to learn Chinese because he wanted to go to China or if he wants to go to China because he is learning Chinese. Trouble is he can't remember himself. About two years ago he started a course in the local school. After the first term, the course was cancelled because the subject was too difficult. In a class of 20 people, only 3 were disappointed, Brendan among them. He convinced the other two and the teacher, LiPing, to keep up the lessons privately and meet up in each other's houses. Since then, Tuesday became Chinese night, a much more sociable affair now that the lessons are held at home, involving great amounts of green tea and fortune cookies, (or scones, depending on the mood), and occasionally even music.

At the end of the first year one of the students gave up and Brendan said he only then realized 'how much he didn't know'. Finally learned the characters and the tones, (the same word has 5 different meanings depending on intonation going up, down, flat or no intonation at all: "Ma1 ma4 ma3 ma", meaning: "mother, to curse, horse, question mark"= Did mother curse the horse?), now he could start learning Chinese.

As well as the lessons with LiPing and Ian, the other brave scholar, Brendan used a Chinese course online for grinds: http://chinesepod.com.
level or like In the beginning he just used the free dialogues, then he subscribed for the script of the dialogues and the grammar. Last summer he used their premium package with one to one conversations over skype with a teacher. At present he has reached an intermediate level, or as LiPing more beautifully put it: "If you compare learning Chinese with climbing a mountain, you are halfway up." The experience is so intense anyway that to get it out of his system Brendan has started to blog about how difficult it is to climb that particular mountain: http://peelingmandarin.blogspot.com

As with English we'll get by in Oz and NZ (or will we?? See Glossary), and my esposo covers China, I was left with South America and Spanish. I have started a beginners course in the local school and then with the few braves that wanted to keep going we have continued with private lessons in each otter's houses. The class is a bit larger than the Chinese one, but not by much: Cheryl, Gillian, Sean, Mark, Jez, I, y Maria, nuestra profesora. I do my grinds through http://spanishsense.com. It's not like climbing the Kilimajaro, I'd rather compare it to the Inca Trail...

Listening to: Asian Dub Foundation, 1000 Mirrors

Visas

Just a few pictures to show the starting point. Taken a few days ago in Drake's Pool, on the road between Carrigaline and Crosshaven where I go walking almost every morning.


The only countries for which we need VISAS beforehand are Australia and China. For all the others it is a case of a stamp on arrival. From other people's experience we have learned that the only difficulties could arise in Bolivia, especially crossing the border by land. It is not unheard of having to discretely slip a few dollars inside the passport to gain access to the country.


For the Australian VISA we simply got it through the travel agency. Once again it was one of those virtual goods: you pay 20e and get a receipt, but the real thing is registered with the Australian authorities that will stamp the passport on entering the country. China was, is, much more complicated. They don't accept applications by post, but insist on bringing the passports to the embassy. It takes up to 5 working days to complete the procedure and given that the embassy is in Dublin, it is all in all a big headache. They want details such flights details, itinerary, hotel bookings and the likes. At present we are putting everything together and next week we'll send a courier to Dublin with the passports, at least they do not insist on doing it in person.