During spring travels 1996, we visited an island off the coast near
Shanghai called Putuoshan. Besides natural beauty and so far unspoiled
peaceful charm, the island is the site of major Buddhist temples
and the destination of many pilgrims, such as the
elderly women in the photo.
We weren't sure whether the flowery towels on their heads were
a requisite part of their attire or simply a good way to keep cool.
They seemed as intrigued by me and Cheryl (right) as we were of them.
In June 1996 I traveled with Diana (left) to western/central China,
with the remote village of Xiahe (pronounced something like
SHAH-huh) as the highlight of the trip. Nestled
near the Tibetan plateau, 8 hours by bus from the nearest large city
of Lanzhou in Gansu province, Xiahe is the site of the largest
monastery of Tibetan Buddhism outside Tibet. We met the monk to the left
in the gardens of the monastery near the tent (below) put up for summer
scholarly debates, which from what we gathered were public
question/answer-style tests on scriptural matters.
A June morning in the monastery.
Near the grasslands, where we had a memorable day of horseback
riding... Our canny Tibetan guide who pedaled us up a long, steep
road to the grasslands in his bicycle cart (oh, the guilt!) got us a
great deal, too -- something like US$1.50 for an hour of unguided
romping among yaks and sheep in azure-verdant-alpine splendor. I got a
pretty nasty sunburn afterward, though.
This one has a very long story attached to it, which I will try
to put here someday. Suffice it to say for now that it is, quite
appropriately, the only picture I have of the Bad Guy, and yes,
he is indeed relieving himself not far from us.
That's my red jacket on the right edge, and the two people in the
foreground are the Swiss travelers with whom we shared this rather
traumatic adventure.
OK, this is here just to show how high I climbed. Taken in spring 1996 near the Great Wall at Simatai. (This is the least touristy, and also the least repaired and therefore most dangerous, section of the Wall that's been opened to the public.) We got lost on the way down.
Actually, this was our second try at going to Simatai. The
first time, our bus got hit by a big truck in an attempted
hit-and-run. This was the first time I was involved in a high-speed
vehicle chase between a bus and a truck; I don't particularly
recommend it. After our bus driver succeeded
in overtaking the truck, blocking it off in the front and giving the
truck driver quite an earful, we had to wait something like two
hours before the police arrived. Quite instructive, I'd say.