My food poisoning had subsided by the time I’d boarded that morning, heading from Chungking to Chengdu via the high speed train. Originally when we were at the train station buying the tickets, we thought that the robotic ticket dispenser was a genius idea compared to waiting in a big line for the ticket window. Little did we know that robotic son of a bitch would screw us over by getting us to think we had seats next to each other with sequential numbers, when in reality the two seats were cut between different sections of the car. Not only did I get cut off from my friend but I had the pleasure of sitting in one of those annoying seats with the back to the front of the car, looking across at two other guys who were staring so hard at me I thought they were trying to steal my soul. A few minutes after the train lurched out of the station I felt like He-Man after kicking Beastman’s ass when my friend came to inform me that the seat next to him was vacant. I blew a kiss goodbye to my soulmates and spent the rest of the morning staring into the smoggy, hilly farmland of Sichuan at 200km/h.

We were staying at the Chengdu Mix Hostel, and it was pretty generous because it provided us free pickup from the train station via taxi. Now I may be comparing apples to peacocks here, but if you stay at the Peninsula in Shanghai, they charge 2500rmb to pick you up. Sure they may pick you up in a Rolls-Royce Phantom, but I mean, it costs infinitely more times than Chengdu Mix Hostel’s service. You just can’t argue with infinity…unless you want your formulas to explode. But enough about Iranian scientists.

We spent the rest of the day exploring the city by foot, bus and taxi. Now I want to make it clear I’m no fan of temples. I recognize that they have some cultural importance and are handy for the odd human sacrifice, but honestly, you’ve seen one you’ve seen em’ all. I’m especially repelled by the fact that they usually want ridiculous admission charges to see boring poorly re-built designs that looks like all the others. Add in all the tourists, and I avoid the places like a Justin Bieber concert. Chengdu gave me some exceptions to my rules when it provided a couple of decent temple complexes (Aidao Nunnery, Wenshu Temple and Qingyang Temple) and that were cheap at 5 to 10rmb, devoid of tourists, and somewhat unique in design. They even had people praying instead of the typical junk sellers that congregate at these venues.

Lunch was some authentic Sichuan street food at a place that literally was a hole in the wall. I’m not talking smack here, it looked like the kitchen had been fashioned out of a mortar blast from the civil war. The food was real tasty and lived up to it’s spicy reputation. Although I was still skittish thanks to my experience in Chungking, everything seemed cooked properly and nothing caused me severe or debilitating pains. Dinner had us in a rustic but clean and new hotpot restaurant, because I missed out on it in Chungking. We ordered the dual pot system, with a spicy and non-spicy broth and thank god for that. The spicy broth was so incredibly tongue numbing, after trying it I couldn’t taste anything. I mean, it doesn’t hurt, it just removed all sensation from my mouth. So would someone please enlighten me on what the point of it is, if you can’t even taste the food? It’s like going to a concert and setting the volume so high that you go deaf, or buying a porcupine instead of a pet dog, or going to watch a play and the actors pull out real guns and start shooting the audience right in the eyeballs. Jesus. Maybe the whole experience is some Chinese post-modernist experiment on consumption, like “if your mouth doesn’t feel anything, are you really eating?” Anyways the non-spicy bowl was yummy, plus the quality of all the stuff they gave us was seemed to be above Toyota grade, so overall I would go back.

After the hot pot we took a stroll through this hyper-touristified pedestrian area called Jinli Ancient Street. It reminded me of Qianmen Street in Beijing, or any of the other recreated old style pedestrian districts that have been appearing like boils over China’s urban skin. In a delicious twist of irony, the only thing I find these “ancient” streets useful for is the Western modernity that inhabits them. Starbucks, Dairy Queen or any number of restaurants selling burgers and Italian food are always guaranteed. I suppose the people watching can be mildly entertaining, but if you really want to check out the freaks, hang around the train station for a bit.

Fast forward to our last night in Chengdu. Nothing says awesome like finishing a bottle of vodka while wandering around the central business district and hanging out in Tianfu square while the place swarmed with military police. Sampling the nightlife in Chengdu was a little bit like sucking balls. Not that I would know. Or that that’s even a bad thing. It’s just something I wouldn’t want to do again, personally. The nightlife in Chengdu that is. I heard it was supposed to have more bars and clubs than most cities its size so I had my preconceived notions. While there was a few clubs and bars playing music that wasn’t by Lady Gaga, the patrons of said bars were as wank as…papa-razzi. Case one: My friend walking across an empty dance floor to the bar when another patron walks by and coldly crosschecks him. Case two: At another bar some random comes up to me and tells me that he makes more money than I’ll make in ten lifetimes, and then walks off. Also some guys as white as snow dressed as if they just finished filming a rap video…from 15 years ago. We wound up going to some Chinese clubs identical to the ones we saw in Chungking, and everywhere else in China, where we met a few patrons who were quite accommodating to us in sharing some booze. It’s funny how that works out.

The next day I flew back to the beautiful bubble of modern westernization that is Jing’an and lived happily ever after. There’s probably a ton more stuff that I should’ve seen in Sichuan, but the traffic was so bad and the pollution so thick that the hours stuck in a tourist bus to see the blurry whatever it was wouldn’t have been a wise investment of my time. You’re probably wondering what happened during the daytime of second day because I fast forwarded through that part. I’ll give you a hint, it rhymes with PANDA ORGY.

Filed under: tourist shit