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Monday, 26/11/2012 – 165 A.D.

Xi`an (pronounced “shee-an”) is ancient city with a history going back 3,000 years. It is the Eastern end of the silk road and has been the seat of about 30 Chinese emperors over the centuries. The saying goes that until you’ve been to Xi`an, you haven’t really been to China. The original city is surrounded by a wall that is the largest of its kind, the foundation of which was built under the Tang dynasty, but which was enlarged under the rule of the M…M…come on, you know this…four letters…last one is ‘G’…you’ve read enough about them already…M…M…that’s it…MING dynasty! They’re everywhere, those Mings. And which is my favourite Chinese dynasty? Umm, don’t really have one. I preferred the Chinese Dallas instead. 

Xi`an is roughly in the centre of China, and on the north-south scale it’s about halfway between Beijing and Shanghai. It was chilly, but nowhere near as cold as “The Jing”. We had a bit of trouble finding the hotel, mainly due to Google Map’s continued reluctance to work on Tim’s phone while in China, but after a bit of reconnaissance we got lucky. And how lucky we are! The Days Inn is a well-known chain in various parts of the world and in Xi`an it equates to four star accommodation. And we’re not really paying any more than we have in The Jing and The Hai. Okay, so the place has little charm and zero character, but it’s nice to be back in a place that is Comfortable with a capital ‘C’. I almost feel like I’m here on business!

[Complimentary fruit - I can understand the apple, oranges, tomatoes, but what's with the pickles?]

It was important to take a shower upon arriving. I’ve been having a bit of trouble finding some deodorant. You may remember that I had my two sprays confiscated by the Shanghai metro, but as it’s been so cold I didn’t think there much point in replacing them. Yesterday morning I got to the bottom of my roll-on, but after scooting around the streets of Beijing I couldn’t find a new one anywhere. Oh well, it’s not as if I’ve perspired much recently! I figured I’d try Beijing West station, but despite plenty of identical shops selling the exact same sort of stuff, said stuff did not include deodorants. So, I guess it was quite lucky that we had the soft sleeper to ourselves last night! Now I was in a new town and determined to get as fresh as normal. Watch this space.

We are staying right in the centre of Xi`an, and it’s a modern, urban centre. The city wall is about fifteen minutes away, with a gate at its north, south, east and west points. From each of these gates is a road, name of North Road, South Road, East…you get the idea, and they all meet in the very centre of the city where a large structure called the Bell Tower stands. Besides the obvious, I’m not sure what function the Bell Tower has, but there was scaffolding either just starting to go up or in the final stages of coming down, so we didn’t try and get inside. Instead we headed for tourist info and got ourselves a decent map. You’re never in trouble when you’ve got a decent map.

The afternoon was mainly spent strolling around and getting a feel for the place. There’s no point trying to do too much in the first 24 hours. We took a trip through The Muslim Quarter which features outdoor food of any kind you’d like, plus some glaring health and safety violations that would put most European cafes out of business. And I had no luck finding my deodorant, even stooping so low in one shop as to make the gesture of rubbing something under my arms. She had no idea what I meant. Come on, what else would you rub beneath your armpits other than deodorant???

The language barrier presented further complications come the evening when we went out for dinner. In true First Night Syndrome style, we tried to find two restaurants and failed on both counts. We left the hotel at 19:00, but it was at least 20:30 by the time we were seated, on the sixth floor of a shopping mall, in a restaurant in a food court that didn’t contain a sniff of another westerner. One thing we are fast-learning about Xi`an is that there are a lot less signs in English than the other two Chinese cities we’ve visited. At least this eatery had a menu translated into (very rough) English. When we arrived it was like we were visiting dignitaries from a far-off land and the staff didn’t know what they should do. They took us right to the far end of the place (get us out of the way???) and gave us what was almost our own little semi-walled-off section. Quite cosy really, though there were chairs for eight people and just two of us dining.

We assumed the waitress we got was chosen because she had a smattering of English, and I do mean “smattering”. She spoke reasonably okay, but understood zilch. Tim ordering his dish along with a portion of rice would have been hilarious to watch had I not been so hungry! And I really should learn the phrase, “Can you give us five minutes, please?” because it winds me up something chronic when the waitress is hovering over me while I’m trying to choose something from the menu. In the end I panicked and chose a dish called something like, “Cottage country meat” (the picture looked like it was beef with green peppers). It was only when she left with the order taken down that I realised I had no idea what type of meat I would be eating. Sure, it looked like beef, but what did that mean in central China? Holy cow! My brother’s words of, “As long as it tastes nice,” were of little reassurance.

I’m pretty damn sure it was beef, and pretty damn tasty it was too. Pretty spicy as well, but a rush of heat endorphins isn’t a problem on a cold Xi`an night. One recurring problem is that I’m always provided with chopsticks as standard. Fair enough, that’s what they use in China, but I’m not Chinese, and it would be nice to be offered an alternative. Normally I just have to ask and they bring a fork, spoon, knife, etc., but this time I had to make spoonish scooping motions to communicate and the waitress brought the type of plastic spoon that you eat your crab and sweetcorn soup with. Oh what the hell, I can manage, I’ll just use one of the chopsticks for some extra grip. Halfway through the meal the manageress must have seen my plight because she shouted something at the waitress, then brought a knife and fork along with a humble, “Sorry!” In other news, Tim realised what his nonsensical conversation when ordering had been about – how hot do you want your chicken? Now, that boy can take a bit of heat in his food, but tonight he got it full-on Chinese strength and had to admit defeat early on. Never mind, he’ll be back, but probably not in that place. As we went to leave, the waitress gave us a big grin and said, “Please walk slowly!” I think she may have meant, “Take care,” or “mind how you go”. That’s the kind of lost-in-translation that I can cope with!

[Chillis, chillis and more chillis!]

[Ironic that the restaurant bin has an English word upon it!]

On the way home, as well as buying a beer for the road, I also bought some deodorant (finally!) It may not have been a power stick anti-perspirant of the kind I’m used to back home, but at least I now smell as sweet as….that sweet and sour chicken that Tim fought against. But I’m not half as hot, despite the five layers.

Deodorant...can he find one? The Xi`an man can!