Well, on the train from Yichang back to Chongqing, everybody got annoyed with me for moving around all their stuff every couple of minutes so I could get at my bag and take another look at my hot new pieces of embroidery, but I reckon they were just jealous they didn't snap up the coolest embroidery in the store like I did. Even talking about how cool the embroidery was didn't chear them up any.
In Chongqing we came across some sort of pirate district. We didn't know that Chongqing was known for their pirates, but there you have it!
Wiz Kid Videographer Alex Howard managed to score a picture with President Obama on his recent unannounced diplomatic tour of China.
At the fondue restaurant we lunched at, Wang Ping, internationally renowned river poet was very excited to find that bull dicks were on the menu, and at her behest we decided to order it. Well, once the big pile of dicks showed up on the table, nobody wanted to try it after all, even Ping who was so jazzed about the dicks in the first place. So, well... I ended up eating some of the dicks.
Now right after I'd eaten the dicks, I observed a couple changes in myself. First off, the dicks were delicious, and all I wanted to do was eat more dicks, and even as I write this blog post I've just got an insatiable craving for dicks. I want them in my mouth. I don't care about women anymore. Chongqing is supposed to be known for it's pretty girls, but I just didn't care, because all I want is dicks. In my mouth.
China is known for its bridges. Here is one being built right now:
Omnomnomnomnomnom
Finally, all that good luck we've gotten from touching the shit in the temples has panned out. I found this super cool pair of shoes in Chongqing. They are authentically made by the renowned shoe company, Jeep. Everyone was complaining about the heat in Chongqing, but not me. I was cool as a cucumber in these cool new well ventilated shoes. All the pretty girls that Chongqing is known for couldn't stop checking me out in these cool shoes, but I didn't care, because all I wanted was more dicks.
Well, we'd scored almost everything that we wanted to get before we left for Xining. We ate some dicks, we got me some supercool new shoes, and we'd even found a music store where Mississippi Bluesman could buy some new strings for his guitar! We were all set, we were walking into the music store when I checked my watch, and we realized that our train was supposed to leave in half an hour. After some frantic scurrying to flag some taxis, and some desperate sprinting with heavy luggage through a basically signless train station, we finally made it on the train with a couple minutes to spare.
This was a very famous train. In fact Chairman Mao took this very train from Chongqing to Xining and may have even stayed in our compartment. In his honor they have not cleaned the bathrooms since.
It was very rainy on the trainride along the Yellow River. The soil in the Yellow River valley is some of the finest soil on earth, and erodes very quickly. The areas in the pictures below are usually very dry, but have been pummeled by rainstorms in the past couple days. Take a look at that erosion.
By now the nasty colds everyone had picked up on the moldy old boat were in full swing. Ping, a doctor in Chinese medicine, stuck us all full of acupuncture needles including herself. We had previously taken one of the fastest trains in the world, which uses electromagnetic energy to carry the train over the tracks, eliminating all friction for one of the smoothest train rides on the planet. Now, we were on one of the slowest, bumpiest trains on the planet. All it would have taken was one big bump while Ping was sticking in those needles, and that's what all of us were thinking the whole time.
Finally, we hung some more river flags! These ones here were made up in Vancouver, Canada at Indian reservations.
River poet Wang Ping, spreading blessings and goodwill.
Lucy and Lee, they said their names were, making us some flags.
And here's the flags they made!
Mississippi Bluesman Alex Wand speaking the universal language of the blues guitar.
These kids were great, they would not leave us alone. They made lots of flags, and we made them some flags in return. They'd all just graduated high school, and unabashedly loved the kind of American music that 12-year old girls like back home. Alex was a good sport about it and tried improvising some Backstreet Boys on his guitar to back up the kids out of tune vocals.
Finally we arrived safe and sound in Xining. A boiling water toast in the thinnest meltiest plastic cups to finally getting off that train. The damn thing was supposed to be 21 hours long, but took on an additional 10 hours of delays.
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