Chongqing, 15th – 17th August

Geography MVP Doreen Massey thought of space as ‘pincushion of a million stories: if you stop at any point in that walk there will be a house with a story’. Roughly speaking, this was in response to capitalist and globalist desires for time and space to be compressed in the name of efficiency and production. This thought stays with me in my daily life, hence spending 4 months making my way to China, rather than opting for an 18 hour flight.

With that said, I’m a fickle man when it comes to modernity. I’ll moan and groan about the proliferation of technology like your drunk grandad at Christmas, but when it comes down to it, I’d be first in line at Cyborgs’R’Us. So, as I sat on the 350kmph bullet train between Chengdu and Chongqing, I really rather enjoyed the blistering speeds, seeing towns, villages and my moral integrity fly by the window.

As our brief train journey concluded, I got the impression that Chongqing was indeed a proper megacity – it was warm yet overcast, the driving had a certain Delamain edge to it, and our hotel room window framed an incredible neon vista of the CBD – one I enjoyed every evening when the lights came on. That first night the bright lights big city centre lured us in, revealing little more than a bubble tea Leicester Square. Mediocre. We quickly decided it wasn’t for us and hit a side street, that’s when I spotted a family head down into a basement.

For most, basements suggest mould, rats, or Walter White, but I see them as mysterious spaces of limitless potential. That limitless potential took the form of a restaurant selling fish head or frog hot pot (or the two combined). I was slightly alarmed by the advertising of a frogs muscly torso leaping from a spicy broth, as if jumping from a pond (see below), but decided ‘we are here now, so might as well’.

Despite being a vegan of 4 years, Max was particularly unfazed by the ordeal, whereas I was borderline hysterical. But after knocking back a few limbs and figuring out what parts the waiter said not to eat (still haven’t the froggiest), I didn’t mind it. We continued for an hour dismembering what must’ve been a dozen frogs between us and left with, well, a spring in our steps.

The next few days in Chongqing we pottered about with little in the way of an itinerary. We rode the famous monorail that goes into a tower block, we explored art districts with fairly meagre offerings, and as ever played basketball.

One notable thing we did do was go to the purpose built Chongqing 1949 theatre to see a show. Honestly, it was more of a spectacle than the Paris Olympics opening ceremony, similar only in the fact that an outsider would have no idea what’s really going on.

The stage, along with the front two rows, revolved like a spacecraft piloted by Mathew McConaughey. The set design was impressive, constantly surprising us with new scenery and props. We couldn’t help but laugh to ourselves in amusement and left satisfied with our day out to the theatre, albeit if the acting was reminiscent to my own exaggerated GCSE Drama performances.

Zhangjiajie, 17th – 20th August

You guessed it, another train. This one was 6 hours and mostly pleasant, children giggled and took photos with us, lush scenery passed us by, and only one kid vomitted furiously into a transparent bin bag with holes in. Trains always have something to write home about.

Now off the train, we hurried to find our hotel in the old town of Zhangjiajie before the rain set in. We stayed at the Just Waiting for You Inn, which had the loveliest host who detailed a full itinerary for our one day in the nearby national park.

The next day we pulled up at the enormous front gate of the national park (rip Hodor, he would’ve loved it) where an all too familiar scene unfolded. It was a tourist pong of sorts, one after the other they would frantically rebound from one queue to the next, Starbucks to McDonalds, McDonalds to KFC, and back again. Fully believing the tourist apocalypse was nye, we entered the park with expectations lower than Scums 2024 season.

Only it wasn’t too bad. After a brief bus that took us further into the national park, the crowds dissipated and suddenly we found ourselves in a cool, humid forest with monkeys… everywhere. I’d never seen them outside of St Mary’s before, so it was a grand to watch them going about their business in the wild, jumping around, scaring people who got too close, and of course munching on a discarded McFlurry.

With the monkeys sized up, we took a turn and what I thought might be a shortcut. Unbeknownst to us, the 20 steps we quickly climbed left only 7980 more to go. Still, we ascended, sweated, and enjoyed the challenge. As we summited a bizarre landscape came into view, it was as if the earth was receiving acupuncture, only not from pins but thin stacked mountains. It was epic and so life like, fair play to James Cameron and the set designers. To top it off, I also spotted a lovely chestnut bellied rock thrush 🔎.

We spent the following day moseying about Zhangjiajie, Dune desert walking from one patch of shade to another, drinking yoghurt drinks, and visiting the first western style church we’d seen in China (only minor cultist energy).

That evening we departed Zhangjiajie for Beijing. It would be Max’s final train, the hop before he skipped to Australia and jumped back into the arms of his loved ones in England. For me, just another train…