06102011

The holst point.

I've been thinking quite a lot about the knowledge that I have acquired throughout the journey to this point already, and even more so about the knowledge I will acquire in the future. In a hostel room with six nationalities and finelines of stories that don't need a campfire entwining with each other, you're bound to hear things that you don't learn in books. I'm quite fond of knowledge that's passed on by word-of-mouth because stories told are personal, not just faceless interpretations of the words of others. China, as a country, seems like a place I could learn a lot from in a short time but be surprised of it after decades.

Phase II: Hong Kong-Shanghai

The pig intestine and some other lower forms of food apparently got to me and the last day we spent in Hong Kong was not so pleasant. My stomach was pretty bad all day long and we had to wait in a shopping mall for the whole day for our Chinese visas. The mall itself was quite interesting though, and one of the highest ones I've ever been in (probably the highest but I wanted sound like I'd been to a lot of huge malls). The main point of interest was the music in the mall – Nintendo-game-like ghost castle music with violins and weird noises and the whole mall experience felt like an adventure.

After a slight orienteering session eventually we found the China Travel Service where our visas were waiting for us, imprinted on our passports. We had a nice five hours before our flight would take off but we decided to leave for the airport right away, which turned out to be a smart choice seeing as how we were approximately only a half an hour early at the check-in.

I had a slight feeling discomfort in the back of my head when we arrived at the Shanghai airport. We had booked a hostel, we had the address, we got our backbags on time. Everything was in place. The bus took us from the airport for just a mere 22 yuan nearly to our hostel and the airport customer service assistant informed us that there would be taxis waiting for us at the bus stops. There were, a dozen – out of, which none spoke English. After some misinterpretations, call-outs to by-walkers, U-turns and endless amounts of sign language, we managed to find the hostel with the help of a hostel resident. We ended up getting his room but that's a story for another time.