Day 5: Race Day

DNF.

Unsuccessful.

That was about all I wanted to write as I was walking in the final 7k of the race today.  I had already shut it down – stopped pushing around 23-24k, but I was determined to keep jogging to at least cover the distance.  By 35k, I was really in a lot of pain (part of what stopped me from racing at 23k, only with another 12k of easy running to exacerbate it), and – to be honest – I was sick of having people cheer me on. I know the spectators mean well when they encourage struggling runners….and on another day I might do the same, myself.  On another day, I might even have picked up the pace and finished at a jog.  Today was not that day.

I don’t feel like re-living the race, so I’ll keep this short (by my standards!): I felt good as we got to the start line.  Body felt ready to race.  The early kilometers were good – I kept having to slow myself down.  Unfortunately, after cruising with the lead women for a few kms, I realized they were consistently running 3:18 per km – too fast for me to hang on for 42k.  I dropped back, and found myself alone on the course.  The story of so many marathons!  There’s a pack going 2:20ish pace, and a pack going 2:30ish pace…but nobody in between. (I haven’t checked the results, so my estimates may be off.  All I know is that at 3:22-3:25 per km, there was a guy about 20m ahead of me, and the third woman made her way onto my shoulder for a while. Nobody else nearby.) To add to my frustration, it was a blustery day.  I noticed my pace slowing to 3:30ish on the kms we were facing the headwind. Happily the course twists and turns, so there weren’t too many long straight-aways into the wind. (Of course, that also meant there weren’t too many straight-aways with a tail-wind, either…) Effort felt pretty good, and my legs had speed…. About 12k in, my body started hurting – calves, quads, arms, back….what the hell? Things went downhill from there.  Except at Rotterdam, there are no real downhills to spur you on.

Given the winter we had, I did most of my training on treadmills.  As a result, my legs aren’t as tough as they once were.  Nevertheless, I handled a couple of 45k training runs alright. (Alright as far as the legs go….I did run out of sugar on one and eventually hitch-hiked back to my car after weaving all over the road, struggling to keep moving on a downhill.  That’s another story!).  I don’t know if it’s something to do with that, or maybe just that I’ve forgotten how a marathon feels – it has been a long time since I’ve raced one.  Do they always hurt that much…?

I sat and felt sorry for myself for a while in the empty locker room at the Athletic Centre to which we “sub-elites” were given access today.  I felt like a bit of a poseur in there, though Kenyan elites are the first to drop out of any race that isn’t going well. (I saw some do that today!)  I don’t really know what stubborn part of me wasn’t willing to drop out when the figure-eight course crossed back over the finishing area at 24-25k.  I saw some other guys walking off the course then….. Was that some ridiculous version of optimism on my part? Anyway, I sat there, feeling like the whole trip was a waste, until a nudge from a friend over email reminded me that “I’m in FUCKING HOLLAND!!” True. I’m on vacation, and it’s just a stupid race. In my minimal experience (Comrades marathon and now Rotterdam), I don’t seem to race well after a long flight and a time change.  Guess it’s a good thing I’m not going to qualify for the Olympics!

It’s also a good thing I was able to (forced to?) rebound post-race, because my day had a few more hiccoughs in store.  First: no hot water for my shower at the Athletic Centre.  None.  I was already cold, and then this was just a slap in the face on a bad day.  I suppose it was better than the no water I had by the time I left my hotel room this morning (miraculously, I did have hot water for my shower this morning), but….I think that last time I flushed the toilet used up whatever was left in the hotel’s reserves.  Finally, after I left the Athletic Centre, I went to retrieve my bag from the start line.  We “sub-elites” were instructed to leave bags in our own separate area until after the race. I fought my way through the crowds back to the start (the Dutch reliance on bicycles is great, until they are adding to the frustration of fighting through a crowd!) and…my bag was gone. Not sure how I’m going to tell Skechers that I need to be re-stocked so soon! Whereas I have generally found everyone to be extremely helpful and kind here so far, I simply got blank stares and shrugged shoulders when I asked where the bags might have gone.  Lacking any other plan, I returned to the Athletic Centre again (it wasn’t exactly far, but it wasn’t next door, either!) and proceeded to argue with the woman at the front desk about whether or not I was allowed back up to the pre-marathon room.  She assured me that no-one was left up there.  Finally she relented and allowed me to go see for myself.  There were still people there, thankfully, packing up, and wondering what to do with the remaining bags.  Mine included!

As I walked to a Laundromat this afternoon (yep, that’s my exciting post race adventure), I saw piles and piles of empty cups and water bottles, discarded plastic bags, and assorted other garbage.  What a disturbing cost to a race.  Not only the production of such waste, but the unconstrained discarding of it around an otherwise scenic fountain on a roundabout.

Oh, but the Dutch live up to their reputation for cleanliness!  An hour later, as I returned from the Laundromat, I looked at the fountain that had been a veritable trash-heap shortly before:

I asked at the front desk of the hotel what would be a fun way to spend my last evening in Rotterdam.  Apparently the football (soccer) team is playing, so she suggested finding my way to a pub and enjoying the atmosphere.  Could be fun.  I mean, even though I find watching football (soccer) on TV to be rather boring.  Shhh!!!! ;)

………………….

I’ve just returned from a evening of wandering around Rotterdam. (I didn’t go to a pub.) The downtown core get pretty sleepy on a Sunday evening, it seems.  Picturesque, looking out on the harbour and the river:

Even the graffiti here has a nautical theme!

Finally, it seems the Dutch penchant for inspiring quotations continues at this hotel.  I like this:

Day 4: Waiting for an Execution

It really isn’t that bad…but I can’t say I enjoy this whole day-before-a-race thing.  I’m trying to keep it a low-key day, and I’m nervous that I didn’t train enough this past winter, and I’m nervous because I’ve never raced a marathon in my Skechers Go Mebs (they’ve been fantastic for a couple of half-marathons, so I have reason to think they’ll continue to be stellar), and I’m generally nervous about everything right now.

On any normal day while in another country, I’d be embarrassed to admit that I’ve spent pretty much the whole day in my hotel room  - listening to Humble and Fred podcasts, watching some videos on YouTube, Skyping, blogging (I have had no urge to check work emails…sorry OntarioMD).  Outside of a brief run this morning, my short venture outside today was to go to the grocery store for routine and boring food that will go down easy, and a return to the race expo.  Paul wasn’t working at the compression sock booth today, and I didn’t manage to find anyone else to chat with for an hour.  Probably a good thing, as my heart-rate was elevated just from the walk there:

I trust that the barriers won't be in the way tomorrow ...

Although Paul wasn’t out, I did get a less overt example of Dutch kindness today; admittedly, not so out of the ordinary anywhere else.  As I ran alongside the bike lane, I noticed a cyclist slowed and kept pace with me for around 30 seconds.  I glanced over and he said something to me in Dutch.  I relied on my usual “smile and nod”, at which point he started saying something else (or maybe the same thing again…I really don’t have a clue).  I smiled apologetically and told him I don’t speak Dutch.  He responded in English: “Good luck tomorrow.  You look very smooth.”

Ok, I lied.  He actually told me I look “supple”, but I’m attributing that a point in translation.  

Otherwise….it’s one thing for a random guy I’ve known for 10 minutes to invite me to hang out with him at his place in another city next week.  It’s something else altogether for a random guy on the street to say I look supple.  THAT is just WEIRD!

Here I am, back in my hotel, getting ready to stretch before an early night. Tomorrow night I’m staying at the five-star Hilton, brought into my price-range by Hotwire. :)  It’ll either be a celebration or a consolation.  I wonder how many marathons it takes to eliminate the post-marathon let-down.  I haven’t even raced yet but I think I can feel it coming. (Um...that little jaunt throughout Europe may take the sting off of it...) It takes so much time to prepare for one of these, and the reward is hours of discomfort and a Gatorade-stained singlet! Then again, they punctuate the racing season so well! Oh, my love-hate relationship with marathoning!

Then again, maybe I just shouldn’t spend so much time alone in my hotel room! :P

Good night.

Day 3: Not-So-Sin City

Last night, I witnessed the primal and hedonistic side of Amsterdam. This morning, I experienced its opposition in the neighbourhood known as De Pijp.  I love De Pijp! Well, to be honest, I didn’t notice a big distinction between parts of the Museumkwartier and De Pijp, so generally I can say that I love this lesser-known Amsterdam.

I set my alarm for 9am this morning, figuring that I wouldn’t likely need it that late. I ended up sleeping until 9:30, and I still didn’t feel perfect.  I guess my body still thinks of that as 3:30am!  Running cures jetlag, so what better way to see some more of the city.  I ran through the Musem-plein (a park with museums on three sides) in search of one of the “must-see” destinations in Amsterdam:

According to my guide-map of “the usual and unusual”, Zuiderbad was originally built to house a velox cycling school, and was subsequently transformed into a “marvelous swimming palace with a mosaic fountain”.  I did not go in to swim this morning, but it’s on the list for when I return next week.  The weekly naturist hour is on Sundays from 4:30-5:30pm.  I’ll still be in Rotterdam, so I guess I’ll have to wear trunks.

Next I meandered (is it “meandering” when you’re running at an easy pace?) over to Vondelpark, which is simply vonderful! Seriously, the parks in Amsterdam are beautiful!  Whereas last night I saw debauchery and the abuse of people’s own bodies, this morning I saw loads of people out running and cycling. A city of contrasts, indeed! In the second half of my run, I threw in some 200m strides to test out the legs.  The first felt great!  The rest were slow and rough.  Let’s hope that’s the jetlag… L

Having checked out of my hotel, I wandered in the other direction in search of a few more “usual and unusual” destinations.  I wended my way over bridges and canals, enjoying the streets.  I suppose any European in his/her right mind would be insulted, but some of the streets reminded me of parts of Boston – the architecture of the three- and four-storey houses…

Many of these old houses have these hooks mounted on their roof. I can only suppose it is to allow for moving items in and out through windows, as the narrow staircases and tight corners would otherwise limit one’s belongings to what fits in a box!

These “islands” serve a very fun purpose!

I don't know how well you can see the baby right underneath the momma bird. :)

I really thought the River Amstel would be more significant than this, though!  Oh………that’s just a canal.  Um…let me explain.  I have two maps of Amsterdam.  One has great directions and labels, but the “must-sees” are the Red Light District and Dam Square. Nothing wrong with those, but I’ve “been there, done that”. My other map has minimal labeling of streets (actually, lots of streets don’t even make it to this map) but it identifies all the “usual and unusual” destinations.  In my defense, I kept the map in my pocket most of the time, anyway!!

On my way to the real Amstel, I found the Albert Cuyp Market:

It seems you can buy anything here – food, clothes, flowers…even hood-vents for your oven.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t find a have a lot of need for enamelware.  Nevertheless, identified as an “unusual” destination, I had to check out the Emaillekeizer.

I…don’t know what to say about this place.  My guide-map reads: “…this is the place that caters to all one’s enamel needs…Recently it has, rather bizarrely, branched out into Ghanaian music…”.  I couldn’t say it better, myself.  More than just music, the store has a whole African-themed section.  Makes sense.  I mean, who doesn’t want to remember their trip to Amsterdam with an African memento?  I looked for an enamel number for my house, but they didn’t go past 50.

And now to the REAL Amstel – a little more what I had in mind!

The Dutch are known for gardening, so I guess it’s no surprise that even houseboats have garden plots:

My legs were starting to get a bit tired, but there was one more destination I wanted to check out:

This must truly be the best bakery in Amsterdam.  My guide-map says that they see up to 2000 customers per day.  Despite the line-up (on a Friday morning!), the very friendly woman behind the counter took her time to help me pick something.  I even tried their Easter loaf with marzipan – definitely want some of that next week!

On the walk back to my hotel, I found yet another beautiful place: Sarphati Park.  Once again, I felt a little like I was in the Boston Public Garden.

It's fitting that in the city of gardens the flowers would spread onto the cars as well!

The tram ride from my hotel back to Amsterdam Centraal was a whole lot more pleasant than the walk yesterday, and then I was off to Rotterdam!  It seems that free public wifi is the norm here, so I’ll blame that on why I missed my stop.  Yikes!!  Thankfully the same train stopped again at Rotterdam. (Or maybe it was the first time and I would have had to transfer from the other station?  I still don’t know.)

No long walk to my hotel today, as it was less than a km away from Rotterdam Centraal, and even closer the race expo….which is when my stress level started to climb again.  Recall my registration snafu?  Well, notwithstanding my email confirming I was in, this was the true test. 

It worked!! (And just in case anyone is wondering, no, I will not be pinning my bib to the race t-shirt.  That is entirely artistic license. I won’t wear the shirt until I know I deserve it by finishing the race!)

Compared to Boston or NYC marathons, the race expo was small and pretty uneventful…for most people, that is.  Some guy working a compression sock booth started chatting with me about his product.  He asked what my marathon PB is, so I told him 2:27. Curious, no reaction.  Deserved or not, I normally get some sort of reaction to how fast that is at race expos.  As Paul Zwama and I kept chatting, I learned why he didn’t react.  He’s a 2:20 marathoner and 1:05 half-marathon runner, and he’s hoping for 2:16 in May. (He’s not racing Rotterdam.)  Wow! He’s fast!! (BTW, I checked out his credentials online.  He seems to be legit….) In short (not my forte when writing), he’s invited me to visit him in Utrecht on Tuesday – he’s offered to be a guide for a day.  He’s even offered his spare room instead of a hotel.  I was a little shocked, but he just laughed and assured me this is standard Dutch hospitality.  His girlfriend didn’t seem to think anything of it, so I’m in!

Finally, I’d like to leave you with a few things that resonated with me today:

What a day!

Day 2: Sin City

The Red Light District lives up to its reputation.  I see why the District is the destination for stag parties and red-eyed tourists; I didn’t touch a single seed, yet I bet I had more weed in my system than Ross Rebagliati by the time my wandering was done!  To be clear, with Rotterdam marathon around the corner, it’s not as though my evening stretched on all that late.  I was heading back to my hotel as troves of tourists were heading the opposite direction.  I was even asked for directions on how to get to the District.  Not sure why they thought a stone-cold sober guy heading back to his hotel would know!  Truth is – marathon or not – I was worn out and ready for sleep.  The night before hadn’t exactly been restful. 

You know that feeling when you’re walking toward two people who look at you, look at one another, say something and laugh, and then look back at you?  I know it’s paranoid, but it feels like they’re talking about you, right?  In this case, they were.  They were the couple who had the two other seats in the row as I boarded for the first leg of the flight from Toronto.  I was wearing my Tremblant Ironman t-shirt, and it turns out that Goshan (my new temporary friend) had done the same race, and had the same shirt.  His wife Nadia had been a “catcher” at the finish line in 2012.  Who knows, she may have been the one who handed me my blanket.  Made for a fun introduction with my flight-mates.  Birds of a feather fly together, I suppose.  Except we didn’t. Our row was right in front of the exit row, and the seats wouldn’t recline.  The flight wasn’t very full, so the flight attendant moved Goshan and Nadia to other seats that did recline.  Me?  I put up the armrests and had a little “couch” of three seats to curl up.  I slept…kind of.  Better than most flights, anyway.

I was up and back at the window as we broke through the clouds on the descent to Iceland.  What a strange country to behold!  I have wanted to visit Iceland for a while – I suppose their advertising dollars are working.  Having seen a bit of the area around Reykjavik…that temptation is not so strong.  I’m sure it gets better at the Blue Lagoon or near the glaciers, and maybe I was just grumpy from “sleeping” for a few hours on a plane.  In any case, the stopover was just a little over an hour, and then we were bound for Amsterdam!

The Dutch are on to something, I tell ya.  There’s a train station right in the airport (well done, Toronto, you’re only a decade or so behind the times…), and so I was in Amsterdam Central Station (Amsterdam Centraal) in no-time.  And then I was bewildered.  Except for China, I’ve always traveled with company, and there’s a certain comfort in being lost with someone.  At the very least, you know you’re not the only one who was no idea which way to go. (In China, I had a tour guide to rescue me.)  Amsterdam was just me, saddled down like a pack-mule, and no clue where I was going.  Happily, Amsterdam is a small and straight-forward city.  The Venice of the North does not have the rabbit-warren of streets that characterizes it’s southern cousin, and so it was pretty easy to find the way to my hotel on a quiet street down in the Museum Quarter.  Time for a nap!

Somewhat recovered, I emerged in the evening on the search for a real meal (they didn’t serve any food on either flight), and the chance to explore a bit of what this curious city has to offer. I found Dam square, showcasing a physical feat that may just be in the same ballpark as what I will not witness (it being too far ahead of me) on Sunday:

Then I found something else which relates to Sunday in a very different way:

Oh, Skechers!  Showing up to cheer me on? J

What a beautiful city!  Old buildings, canals and bridges.

I sat out on a patio eating dinner and watching the day darken (and using the free wifi to figure out how I’m getting to Rotterdam and check in on some work emails).  For my first night in the Netherlands, I topped off dinner with some Dutch apple pie!  (The next day, I noticed that the restaurant where I ate dinner was right next to the Sex Museum on Damrak. “Dam” it, I didn’t even check it out!)

I hear the Red Light District is best by night, so I ventured across the canal and into the District to see what all the fuss was about.

That’s a lot of windows and a lot of girls! A strange juxtaposition of beautiful old Amsterdam’s narrow streets, charming bridges, and cobbled walkways with….I’ll admit some beautiful faces behind the glass, but lacking the charm of their urban backdrop. Sad to say, some of those (less beautiful) women looked to have as much mileage on them as the cobbled walkways leading up to their doors.

In keeping with the setting, I sat down in a bar and drank a half-pint of Amstel.  Potential patrons who walked in after me were disappointed to learn that alcohol was the only thing for sale in this bar – which I believe makes it a bit of a rarity in the District – and so left in a hurry.  Truthfully, the atmosphere was nothing much, and I finished my drink swiftly.  By then, I was starting to feel the need for sleep in a major way.  I got back to my little room on my quiet street, and fell into bed.  By Toronto time, it was barely evening.  No matter, I fell asleep quickly.

Crazy to think all that had occurred in less than 24 hours!

Day 1: The start of a new adventure (aka Matt's Eurotrip 2014)

I don’t like the TTC.  I mean, I REALLY don’t like it.  I bought a Bixi membership to avoid the subway, and that’s the best part of Toronto’s crumbling transit infrastructure. However, when I’m taking a bus from Kipling subway station to the airport after a day at work….the TTC isn’t so bad.  I guess it just needs context – kicking off a new adventure!

I’m flying to Iceland first, then on to Amsterdam tomorrow.  Sadly, my stopover in Iceland won’t be long enough to do anything more than take advantage of a washroom that’s bigger that a shoebox! Here’s to an uneventful and restful flight.  I sure could use the sleep.

Once in Europe, priority #1 is to race the Rotterdam Marathon on Sunday.  That’s right – after a minor deviation this past fall, I’m back to planning trips around sporting events.  Most often races.  As a result, it looked pretty dicey when I realized a couple of weeks ago that I HADN’T registered for Rotterdam.  I started the process back in December…..then got busy, distracted, or just plain dumb. I pleaded and begged with the organizers, and it worked!!  I guess the Dutch still like Canadians.  Or I’m just that good-looking.  Over email.  In any case, I got an exception and I’m getting a bib.  Phew! J

Priority #2 in Europe will be to spend as much time as possible in as many cool places as possible.  Pretty loosey-goosey, and not usually like me.  I haven’t booked anything past Sunday; I just have a list of cities I want to see: Amsterdam, Brussels, Luxembourg, Prague, Budapest…. There were originally a couple of cities in Germany I wanted to check out, but so many places and so little time…I decided that Germany deserves a trip unto itself, and I might be able to swing an overnight train from Luxembourg to Prague this way.  I also might check out Vienna!

Back to Rotterdam.  My brother Paul filled me in on the good news earlier this week that the six fastest marathoners in the world will not be at Rotterdam this year.  Great news for me!  I might win Rotterdam now…right?  Maybe?  London Marathon will be incredible, and Rotterdam will be stuck with a bunch of measly 2:05 marathoners.  Ho-hum.  Truth be told, I’m still willing to allow myself to be humbled by their presence.  There’s something pretty fantastic about seeing a runner pulling away at the outset of a marathon, and knowing I’d have trouble keeping pace for 2km.

Alright, I've gotta fly!

Day 11 Time Travel

I faced 22 hours of travel to get home from Xi’an, starting with getting on a bus at the hotel in Xi’an.  I wasn’t willing to waste nearly a full day for this traveling, so I finished 10 hours later at 7:35pm.  I like to think I’m a pretty efficient guy! ;)

It’s always best when a long day of travel is uneventful, and this day (10 hours) lived up to that.  I made all my connections with lots of time, no issues with security…a good day to fly halfway around the globe.

The first leg of my journey was with one of the Australian couples from the tour – they were with me as far as Beijing.  Wayne and Kerry are really nice people who were a pleasure to travel with.  I was impressed with Wayne’s honesty as we waited to board our first flight.  He explained that a lot of Australians have ingrained racism, and resent the flood of Asians who have immigrated to their country.  As a result, there is a common perception that Asians are lazy and are trying to take advantage of Australian social benefits.  (I got stuck in an earlier conversation with another Aussie who exemplified the mindset Wayne was articulating.) Wayne followed up with: “Now that I’ve seen this country, I don’t believe that for a moment.  These are smart people!  They work hard, and they are so advanced with their architecture and technology.  So nice, too.”  Wayne isn’t young, and – based on my exposure to other folks his age – it’d be no surprise if he had some discomfort with the changing face of his world.  I was really impressed that notwithstanding a lifetime of potential preconceptions, he was able to see things for how they are, and do away with the vestiges of racism.  For me, this kind of positive reinforcement bodes well.  (Forgive the philosophizing….it’s a strenuous mental effort to condense 22 hours into 10!)

Given the extremely limited food options past the security check, I had Pizza Hut for dinner in the Beijing airport.  With the modern face of China, this is Chinese food. It reminded me that much as I have loved this adventure, there are familiar things I will relish upon my return. (Pizza Hut isn’t actually one of them.)

Happy travels!

Day 10 The Great Wall!!

I ran the entire length of the Great Wall this morning.  That’s right – the Great Wall Marathon has nothing on me! I covered all 14km of the Great Wall of China Xi’an (I even doubled back to make it 18km). I mean, it may be 5986km shorter than that other wall, and it might have a flat, 12m wide surface across the top, but really – how many people do you know who can claim to have run the entire length of the Great Wall (of Xi’an) in China??

Truth is, I would say it’s a pretty exclusive club I joined this morning.  What was a novelty for me – running along the top of a 600-year old structure – was clearly a novelty to many of the people I passed, too.  Lots of tourists were cycling the perimeter of the town, and they seemed mildly amused by another tourist loping by with a goofy grin.  The locals, however, were so obviously entertained!  Many shouted out hello, or laughed as I ran by.  Some just paused at whatever they were doing and stared at me. One fellow, who introduced himself as (spelling phonetically here) Zho Wun Zhung, caught up to me on his bike to ask where I came from, whether I run marathons (guess it’s not just Canadians who ask that of every runner), and whether I like China (he seemed pleased when I replied I love China). Amusingly (to me), I had to slow down to chat with him, so after a polite amount of conversation, I picked up speed and ran away.

Given the perennial smoggy haze in Xi’an, the view was not exactly fantastic, but I was pumped to be running on this old defensive barrier. I’m not sure if was actually the case, or if I’m just getting used to it, but the air did feel a little cleaner today as I gulped in lung-fulls. (I’m hoping the former, but afraid it’s probably the latter…)

Each of the main gates has a double-gate entranceway.  If the first gate were breached, the defending soldiers could then surround the invaders and attack from above on all sides. The enemy would be penned in by 12m thick, 36m high walls. Of course, to break through that first gate, potential invaders would face a maelstrom of fire from the arrow tower above, only to come upon a 12-inch thick reinforced wooden gate set into the brick walls.  What a reward – to fight through that, only to find another set of the same beyond!

Though the strategic intent is obsolete, the arrow towers nonetheless provide amazing views of the wall. Though some have been lost to war and decay, the rampart tower in the distance was once part of a network of towers repeated every 120m.  These further enhanced the defenders’ ability to monitor enemy movements from on high, and protect the wall.

My tour group. Can you tell who is preparing to run? Behind us is one of the inner towers in the double-gate arrangement.

 The top of the wall.  Notice the “treacherous” footing I faced.

  

 Looking into the city from atop the wall.

The Muslim Market, where we proceeded after touring the wall, is another unique fixture of Xi’an.  Different from virtually every other market in China, the warren of streets making up this market area sells a whole variety of foods and…..stuff.  (Some touristy junk, and some stuff that looked like it might actually be worthwhile.) I didn’t get a whole lot of time to wander through the market this afternoon, as our guide Kelly invited me in to have tea with a friend of hers.  THIS was COOL!!  I was having the kind of experience I love when traveling – sitting down with locals, doing what they do.  Rose (Kelly’s friend who owns the tea shop) treated us to a variety of teas, and explained how each should be served – water temperature, time to steep, etc.  I find it fascinating that the way we drink tea is utterly different than in the birthplace of tea.  Of course, they treat it like wine, whereas we generally treat it like water… Time slipped by, and suddenly Kelly and I were rushing back to meet with the group!

The dumpling banquet for dinner was excellent!  Why is it that food in Xi’an kicks butt over the cultural and “foodie” centres of Beijing and Shanghai? The restaurant also adds a special twist – quite literally. Dumplings are made to look like their contents; fish dumplings are shaped to look like fish, duck dumplings are shaped into ducks (fyi, Chinese ducks apparently say “gaa gaa” rather than “quack quack”), and pig dumplings (sigh…they really tasted very good) were shaped like pig noses.

We returned to the market after nightfall and enjoyed the magnificent views of the wall all lit up:

Finally, on our last evening in Xi’an, nine of us in the tour met in the lobby bar of our hotel to ruminate on this trip.  What an amazing adventure!  And great company to boot! We had the best of luck with our guides and hotels (notwithstanding that we were far away from downtown Shanghai), and I saw and experienced things that thrilled me to the bone.  Though I look forward to returning to the routine of running and healthy eating, there is no part of me that wants to leave this magical country.  I want to come back soon – so many places I haven’t yet seen, and parts that I want to see again.

They say that all good things must come to an end.