I picked up my e-ticket to Kathmandu at Sim's Guest House travel desk and grabbed a taxi to the People's Park in central Chengdu. The Lonely Planet spoke highly of it, and I was surprised by what I found.

For a Thursday afternoon, the park seemed quite crowded. As I started to take photos of some flowers near the entrance gate, a Chinese woman asked for a photo of me. I was happy to oblige, though it still felt funny. Soon after, a 70-year old Chinese man came up to me and confirmed his hunch that I was American. We walked around together for a bit, as I was thankful to speak with a local who knew enough English to carry on a regular conversation. He indicated a lot of the people in the park were retired. He asked for a few photos with me, and I'm embarrassed to admit that I was suspicious of the idea. As he lead me toward a photo vendor, I imagined the photos would be taken, and I'd be expected to pay for them. In reality, he wanted them for himself, and asked for my home address so he could send me one too.

Large groups of men and women were dancing, people were singing full-on karaoke with mics and speakers, performance artists were putting on dancing and singing shows with large audiences gathered around, and of course people were drinking tea and playing card and board games. I found the atmosphere fascinating.

Eventually, I sat down by a pond and ordered "Snow on Green Lake Jasmine Tea." When it arrived, there were white flower petals floating on top of the green tea with the leaves resting at the bottom of the cup. It was quite a sight, and a more apt name could not have been given to it. I continuously refilled the tea cup with the hot water from the provided thermos. A little Chinese girl at the adjacent table befriended me, offering an endless supply of sesame seeds and drool.

It didn't take long for a guy to come over and offer to clean the wax out of my ears. I tried to bargain with him but he wouldn't budge on the price. I caved because I was curious to give it a go. Having a strange man stick metal and small pipe-cleaner type brushes into your ears in public is an odd experience at best. As he was poking around, I realized I was letting this random guy mess with my hearing. One slip and I'd have a punctured eardrum, but it was too late. He used what seemed to be a tuning fork at the end of each ear cleaning.

I'm going to stick with Q-Tips.

After an afternoon sightseeing at DuFu's cottage, prior home of a famous Chinese poet, I decided to check out a Chinese Tibetan spa near Charlie's apartment building. I only knew it was a spa because I had asked him about the prayer flags over the front entrance a few days earlier.

I took the elevator up to the top floor, and was happy to see a well-decorated, warm and welcoming reception area. The language barrier was a big issue, however having been to a spa previously with Charlie, I had a sense of the routine.

First, they showed me to a locker where I put away all my clothes. I was standing there buck-naked for a moment until the attendant was kind enough to hand me a towel. I spent about 30 minutes soaking in a wooden tub of hot water and Tibetan medicine. The medicine was red, which gave the water a similar tint. Next, I showered and changed into the supplied pajamas. The attendant brought me to a dark room with lounge chairs, each equipped with a remote and small flat screen TV. I flipped around the channels until boredom set in, and then asked for a massage.

I was lead to a room where a Chinese masseuse eventually entered. She pointed at a poster on the wall which was written in Chinese. After a minute or two of being completely confused, I pointed to what I thought was the cheapest option (there were numbers like 30, 60 and 90 listed, but I had no sense of whether it was related to cost or time). The initial massage lasted about an hour. And then....

A cart of round glass jars was wheeled into the room. I'd seen what was about to happen on TV once, so I knew what was coming. First, I received Gua Sha, a treatment whereby a piece of metal is scraped across my back. It didn't hurt, but it did make me wonder what the hell was being done to me. Then, the woman lit cotton balls on fire under the jars, creating smoke which allowed for a vacuum effect when the jar was pressed against my back. My entire back was filled with the jars, and I was left to bear them alone for 10 minutes. It felt strange, like an octopus was slapped on my back, in no hurry to release itself. I decided to grin and bear it.

Eventually the jars were slowly peeled off of me, and when they were all gone, I sat upright. The woman pointed at my left shoulder, and I was horrified to see a giant purple circle. When I got back to my locker to change, I looked in the mirror and was aghast at the results of what was suppose to be a relaxing massage!

Once I got back to Charlie's apartment, I found out that the ancient Chinese medical treatment I had just unknowingly requested was called Ba Guan (aka fire-cupping). It is meant to cleanse the body of toxins and treat certain ailments. And it would take up to a week for the bruising to disappear. In actuality, as I write this more than 3 weeks later, I can still see the outlines of circles on my back and shoulders, making me wonder if I'll never see them completely fade.

You can see a few more photos of the actual process on Ben's Blog.

On our way home from the foot massage place, Charlie got a phone call from his friend Eli who was at the Playa Club.  He said it was the opening/closing party for the venue which had only be around a few weeks.  We had previously talked about the place (and not in a good way), so we headed on over.  The extra draw of free drinks didn't hurt!  Having read an interview with the owner of the club, we knew it was destined to fail.  A white American ex-Republican staffer was trying to bring true hip-hop to Chengdu.

Upon arrival, we were greeted by a virtually empty club, with the exception of Eli, a few Americans (from Washington, DC no less), and a few locals.  We drank what felt like tons of Jim Beam and cokes, however I think it was so watered down by ice and Coke that it didn't amount to much.  Bottle service at club tables is much more common in Chengdu than in the US where from my perspective, it's reserved for ostentatious people in VIP areas.

Eventually Eli was given the mic and he jumped on stage to rap to the hip-hop being spun (on CD's).  Charlie grabbed my camera for a few classic shots of the moment, such as the one above.

Peace out Playa Club!

Signs advertising foot massages were all over the streets in Hong Kong, and I remember the Austrian man telling me they were cheaper in China, a hint to hold off at the time. Charlie suggested we get one so we made our way through the rain, across the campus of Sichuan University, to a big building with the look and feel of a hotel. We were lead up a staircase to a waiting room where a couple of plasma TV's were broadcasting German soccer and Hart's War.

As we waited for an open room, I brought up the fact that the waiting room was filled with young guys. Jody responded that the clientèle is typically men. I still couldn't get over it. In the USA, guys just do not go out for foot massages together, and there were far too many for them all to be getting the other type of massage (if that was on the menu).

We were lead to a room with a small TV and four adjustable beds. We took off our socks and shoes, Charlie grabbed the remote, and soon there were two girls and a guy cleaning and massaging our feet in wooden tubs of water. I was the only person in the room unable to speak Chinese, not that it was necessary. After the water part, we got comfortable under blankets (if we weren't already), and received body massages over our clothes. The whole experience lasted 1.5 hours and cost $6.50. Not a bad way to kill some time.

I walked down Jinli Lu, which was lined with souvenir and tea shops, restaurants and bars.

Despite the tourist trap feel of the new construction and design, the street's history dated back to the Han Dynasty.

I came across Carol's Restaurant "where East meets West" and grabbed a seat facing the street through an open window.

My stomach wanted a cheeseburger, so I made a compromise with myself by ordering a few Chinese treats to go with it.

The pig's tail arrived as an appetizer, and looked just like a damn pig's tail!

There is no getting around the fact that when you order these exotic items, little is done to dress them up.

A small pile of crushed red peppers accompanied them. I picked up my chopsticks and went to town.

The meaty part of the tail was tender and juicy. It soon became a fun process to manage the meat off the cartilage in the center, which you spit out.

Dipping the tail in the red pepper took the dish to the next level, adding the ubiquitous Sichuan spice and flavor to the experience.

At one point I looked up to see two Chinese girls across the street in front of another restaurant giggling at my culinary adventures. I waved to ensure they knew I saw them.

My burger (always well done) arrived with a skewer of barbecued chicken gizzards.

They looked harmless enough in the low light, and my success with the pig's tail emboldened me (as did the Carlsberg I drank).

After a few bites of burger, I gnawed off a gizzard. It was tough and almost leathery, with a beef-like taste (though distinctly not as tasty as beef).

I didn't like the texture at all, so the other two pieces were left to waste.

Chengdu's Tibetan neighborhood is located near WuHou Temple, southwest of the city's center. Despite my plans to head toward Tibet itself, I felt a neighborhood visit would serve as a nice appetizer for the main course.

After the taxi dropped me off, and I got my bearings, I began to explore the stores which lined both sides of the street. I found everything fascinating. Buddhist paintings called thangkas were more numerous than I'd ever seen, though the vast majority were cheap prints (I'm holding out for the real thing). Jewelery and prayer beads of varying quality were everywhere. Prayer wheels, tea cups, Buddha statues of all sizes, incense, and reams of prayer flags were the status quo all of a sudden.

My curiosity about what I was seeing lead me to move from store to store at a snail's pace. It felt weird to be browsing the same items as maroon-robed Buddhist monks. Every few stores someone would speak English well enough for me to gather a little bit more information. I had to resist buying everything I saw. Much of it seemed to be made in Nepal, and since I would be going there too, I figured it'd all be cheaper if I waited.

As a break from window shopping, I ducked into a Chinese barber shop where I managed to arrange a shaved head for $1.50 (on par with the cost in Bali). By the time I headed to WuHou Temple, it was closing time. I noticed Jinli Lu, a narrow pedestrian mall adjacent to the temple complex, and headed down it as day gave way to dusk, and red lanterns began to light up overhead.

Chinese Spa

Around 1 am Charlie, Jody and I arrived at a 24-hour spa.

We spent the next four hours swimming around in four pools of varying sizes and temperatures, playing ping-pong in the provided pajamas (which gave us the distinct look we were in an insane asylum), and sweating out the toxins in steam and dry saunas.

A few funny moments occurred. First, as we put our stuff in lockers, Charlie explained to me how Western-style bathing suits were often mistaken for shorts by the Chinese.

A moment after we walked into the pool area, an exchange occurred in Chinese.

Charlie told me they had asked whether we were going to change into bathing suits which cracked us up.

Secondly, before the sauna, Charlie got a cup of water and after a big gulp immediately spit it out, saying it tasted like pool water.

I tried it as well and thought it was more akin to sweat. Once we were in the dry sauna enough to work up a nice sweat, Jody left and went to get a cup of water.

I motioned to Charlie that she was about to drink the bad water as we watched through the glass, expecting her to spit it out too.

To our surprise, she gulped it down, and even refilled her cup!

When we emerged with quizzical looks, she explained the health benefits of drinking saltwater. I'll stick to lemon-lime Gatorade.

Giant Panda Research Base

I had booked a half-day tour to the Giant Panda Research Base through Sim's, and since it left the guest house across town at 8:30 am, I didn't go to sleep after the spa.

The adult pandas were cute while eating their morning bamboo, while the baby pandas playing around were about as adorable as an animal can get.

I paid $7 to hold a Nepalese Red Panda, though he was too busy eating his fruit to look at the camera. It was worth it to feel it's tiny heart beating.

Movie Night

After being up 27 hours, and catching up on a little sleep during the afternoon, I ordered a Sichuan-style pizza from The Mutts Nutts, a fairly new Western-owned pizza place in the area.

It came with tons of peppers and ham, very good!

Charlie has a lot of movies, concerts, and shows on a server, so I picked out Chungking Express since it was set in Hong Kong.

I really enjoyed it, and only afterward found out how well regarded the 1994 movie is among critics.

After the bus ride from the airport, we walked to a favorite restaurant of Charlie's which served pork dumplings. A big bowl arrived for each of us, with the dumplings sitting in a pool of red oil. At home, I'd be horrified of such a sight, thinking it was a sign of unhealthy food. In Sichuan, I quickly learned these pools of oil accompany most dishes and equate to tasty flavors and spicy heat.

A short walk and a mere 7 flights of stairs later, we were in Charlie's apartment in southern Chengdu (near the US consulate). He shares it with Wu, a younger Chinese DJ. We continued to catch up on the past few years, and reminisce about old times (we previously lived together in northern Virginia from 2001-2002).

Charlie took a trip to Japan and China over three years ago, and found a new home in Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan in southwestern China (on the eastern edge of the Tibetan plateau). He earns a living by deejaying in clubs all around the country.

My arrival was on a Friday, so we had a full night ahead of us. Conversation continued over dinner which consisted of an array of tasty dishes at a little restaurant outside Charlie's apartment complex. Earlier, he had explained to me that the dirtier the restaurant, the better the food. By the looks of the cigarette butts on the floor, we were eating some damn fine food!

We headed to La Cafe Panam(e) first, however it was quiet, so it was off to a British pub, The Leg and Whistle, for mugs of Tiger beer. Plenty of westerners in the joint, which was quite small. The happy English bartender/part-owner was enjoying a beer as well. Next, we grabbed a taxi to a cool (by anyone's standards) lounge called Nanuna. Along the way we picked up a few of Charlie's friends, Rachel (UK, DJ) and Jovian (San Francisco, DJ/music producer).

As I enjoyed a Bombay Sapphire and tonic, I noticed the occasional odor of weed permeating the air. To my surprise, it is smoked rather openly. I was told that the police are more concerned with the harder drugs. In the same vein, they apparently don't give out speeding tickets, and I can surely attest to the fact that jaywalking is not a crime! I guess the Chinese authorities have bigger fish to fry.

Our final stop for the night would be Fair Club where a bunch of Chinese DJ's would be spinning in the back room. Initially, we passed through the main room which was very crowded. There were plates of fruit on tables, along with the drinks, which threw me off a bit. We were the only westerners in the back room for the first hour or so, and it was a cool feeling. Later, about 15 others arrived and it didn't feel so exotic anymore.

The music was good and loud, the lasers beaming all over the place. Again, there were people smoking joints openly while unarmed security guards in bulletproof vests looked around (for show, per Charlie) and a Chinese woman mopped the floor around the dance floor every few minutes. To top off a night of many surprises, American Budweiser is a popular beverage here!

Upon arrival back in Hong Kong, I booked a one-way flight from Shenzhen to Chengdu online for $80 (tax included). Thank you China Southern Airlines!

I left Adam to his own devices and took the easy route by hiring a taxi to the airport instead of taking the metro to an airport shuttle bus. Thirty minutes later I was at the airline counter, zipping through security, and finding my departure gate. It was very fast and easy.

The 2.5-hour flight had a bit of turbulence at the start, though was otherwise pleasant. To my surprise, I received a warm pork and rice lunch which I gobbled up. The clouds, fog, pollution, or combination of all made for a practically blind landing from my perspective. And I've never seen people get out of their seats faster than my fellow Chinese passengers. Wow, they were in a hurry!

I immediately saw Charlie outside the baggage claim area. It helps that he's about 6'3 and white, towering over everyone else. It was very exciting to see an old friend after 3 months of traveling. I collected my bag and we headed off on a bus into town.

I managed another Skype call to Michelle and set up a time to meet her outside a metro stop in her neighborhood. I invited Adam to join us for the day's excursion. The metro was easy to navigate as there is only one full line operating. Shenzhen has gone from a fishing village to super-wealthy border city in less than 30 years. The big office buildings are all new, and the metro's first line just opened two years ago. According to David, 85% of the 10-million some residents are illegal. Take that America!

Upon greeting Michelle at the metro entrance, we walked to a nearby Lianhua Mountain Park. We walked up the hill to a large sculpture of the Chinese leader who followed Chairman Mao. He had a great panoramic view of Shenzhen below. On the way down, music began to play from the faux-rock speakers I had noticed along the paths. More odd than the piped in music was the fact that the first song of the day was Auld Lang Syne, followed by Adel Weisse. A normal walk in the park turned surreal.

Next, we caught a bus to a big food market where we ambled past fish heads in the seafood section, chicken' feet in the meats area, and fresh fruits and veggies. Tons of stalls also operated indoors, offering everything under the sun including spices, mushrooms, dried seafoods, and every day household items.

I was curious to check out Walmart in China, and found it to be much the same as what you'd find in the USA, except for the food offerings. A giant vat of pig's knuckles and live softshell turtles were unlikely to stoke the appetites of most Americans in the heartland.

We stopped back at David and Michelle's apartment for a rest, and met up with David in the evening for another tasty dinner. He suggested we play a bit of snooker, and I was game for a new game.

Adam was able to identify almost every photo of a snooker player in the pool hall (on account of them all being British or Irish), while I looked at the gigantic table and wondered how anyone could manage to knock balls in accurately. To my surprise, I edged out Adam in a game that went on for quite some time. Soon after, we said goodbye to David and grabbed a taxi back to the hotel. I had a plane to catch the next day.

The logistics of taking the train from Hong Kong to the mainland China border (adjacent to the city of Shenzhen) could not have been easier. We passed through immigration almost too quickly, and stepped out of the administrative building to a massive city with practically no signs in English.

The Lonely Planet does a poor job of listing accommodations here. We started to walk north along a main thoroughfare, scouting for cheap hotels. The first one we checked out had a squat toilet, which Adam immediately rejected. I was tired, and my pack was weighing heavy, so I would've been fine to stop there (knowing I'd only be in town for 2 nights). Instead, we ambled onward toward the second of three budget listings in the guide.

Before we could find the Lonely Planet suggestion, we came across an international hotel with doubles for about $32/night. After verifying the room had a western toilet, and was quite a bit bigger and nicer than the last spot (at $22/night), we booked it for two nights. Once I hopped into a hot shower for a good 15 minutes, I was glad Adam had higher bathroom standards than me. It had been weeks since I could simply stand under a steaming hot shower for as long as I wanted (and be comfortable about it).

After cleaning up, I successfully managed a Skype call from my first Chinese internet bar. On the other end was Michelle, the wife of David, an American English teacher who was the son of my mom's friend back in Virginia. I've learned the value of local contacts, so he was the sole reason I went to Shenzhen for a few nights.

We met in the lobby of my hotel, and walked around until we found a Hunan-style restaurant. While the menu had photos, I left the ordering up to David and Michelle. The food that arrived did not resemble in any way the Chinese food I was accustomed to eating at home. It was all far better! In fact, I was already thinking about the need to put in some effort to find authentic Chinese food when I go back to the USA. Sweet and sour chicken suddenly sounded like an abomination!

We made plans for me to meet up with Michelle the next day for some sightseeing. The rough itinerary would include a park, food market, and Walmart.

As my mornings in Chengdu were often spent asleep (and I do mean all morning), I'd always try to rustle off the couch for some sightseeing in the afternoons. DuFu was a famous Chinese poet and he lived in Chengdu for awhile, so I took an afternoon to tour around his cottage grounds.

Just about all my travel around Chengdu is via the yellow and green VW taxis. They're cheap, and the city is still in the midst of building it's first metro, so it's the best way to get around. The Cottage was a wonderful respite from the noise and business of the city streets. As I arrived late in the afternoon, I felt a bit rushed, however I saw much of what was to be seen.

My favorite section was the bonsai garden. It was stunning! I don't believe I've ever see such old ones, in so many numbers. Plus, they seem a tad cooler in the midst of an ancient Chinese poet's previous home, smack dab in Sichuan, China. :)

As dusk began to arrive, I stopped for tea on my way out of the complex. I was quickly becoming a fan of the tea culture in the region and wanted to experience it one way or another every day. A Chinese woman who spoke rudimentary English joined me for a little while. It's common for cups of tea to be served with giant thermos' of hot water so you can continuously refill your cup. The Chinese love to sit around drinking tea, playing card games, maj jong, and chatting.  And I  loved being around it!