Frizzy curled and ready to bid Beijing a fond farewell, we packed up this morning, loaded on to the bus and headed out to cram in all those things that we just couldn’t fit in the first two days. 
First stop: the Chinese Herbal Institute to learn what’s wrong with our health (apparently everything) and how Eastern medicine can cure our inability to exercise and eat vegetables. Now, I have to go pretty far in Omaha to come across a KFC but here, they’re the on every corner like a peddler. I’m just sayin’. I may take the doctor’s advice with a grain of original recipe (which is basically salt.)
We learned many things, like how they’re using licorice to cure HIV (immediately skeptical of my pending diagnosis,) the top of your body is the Yin and the bottom is the Yang, garlic is a cure all (if you knew my Grandma Rose, you’d know this to be true,) and how the power of observation can tell volumes about a person. We were instructed to remove our socks and shoes. And if you didn’t? You were instructed to remove your socks and shoes. A legion of workers came in with bamboo tubs filled with a brown water solution to submerge our feet in. 
I convinced myself it was tea. If you have a problem with feet, I suggest that you don’t enter a Chinese Herbal Institute with 45 other people who have been hoofing it for the past 2 days.
After a short presentation, we each got our own personal foot masseuse. While they rubbed, another set of doctors came in (although they called them professor) to use their power of observation to diagnose us. The first professor in the door made a beeline for me. I either looked on the verge of a physical well-being breakdown or as Clare continues to posit — I’m dripping with virtual diamonds and greenbacks. In China, apparently I can make it rain. More likely, I have ‘sucker’ written all over my face. 
Anyway, the professor takes my hand and begins to diagnose all that ails me (through a translator.) He quickly observes that I have a liver problem (yeah – it’s called too much of the sauce) and a weight problem (ya think?) The best part of that was when he patted my belly rolls (so also a kidney problem) and after pointing out the designer bags under my eyes, made an educated guess that I don’t sleep well. Summary: I’m fat, I drink too much, and I don’t get enough sleep. I travelled half way around the world to learn this. For a low low price of $240 (a month) he will prescribe a magic mix of natural medicine so I can feel better. OR I’m guessing the Western cure is to stop buying emergency Annie’s mac and cheese (There have been a lot of emergencies of late) and take a walk every now and again. The bright side was that he was genuinely surprised of my age — meaning he though I was younger. Take that power of observation! Clare? She has poor circulation. I say cold hands, warm heart.
Upon comparing notes, everyone on the bus was fat and tired. Well, when you eat noodles and cake for breakfast and your body clock is a 1/2 day off, it stands to reason. BACK ON THE BUS FATSOS and off to the Summer Palace — the home of the the Emperor, in the summer, obviously. 
Lovely lake, the long corridor (seriously long – stretches for 700m with 14,000 intricate paintings of Chinese history and myths,) and a Buddhist temple atop a hill. 
We were completely prepared to trek to the top, but Rebecca only gave us time enough to look at the lake, grab some questionable meat on a stick and a beer, squeeze in a quick headstand, and achieve peace between nations because the ‘nese love Clare’s tradition. 
A note on the meat on a stick: it was lava hot, bursting with grease the temperature of the sun. This would put any Runza to shame. Compared to this, you would use a Runza as a cold compress on a scorching day.
We were told to return to the meeting point at 1pm. We returned at exactly 1pm. Yet the look of utter distain on her face told us we still found a way to rub Rebecca’s every last nerve the wrong way. And apparently 1:00 means 12:55.
OK bubble butts! Time to go! Off to the Olympic Park and the Bird’s Nest. Here we captured the birds nest at the birds nest. 
It was pretty cool — they still use it for major events and I presume it will be used again for the summer Olympics. (Beijing must pay a goober gob of money to acquire not one but two games in a short span of time.) My favorite shot – water cubes by the water cube. I’m going for artistic in my Asian photography.
A note about traveling to China and money. Bring Chinese Yuan with you because finding a bank or an ATM is an absolute bitch. And when you do? Most are not compatible with our bank cards. And if you find one that is? Don’t believe Citibank or Wells Fargo or Capitol One that it won’t be a problem. They don’t work. We have Yuan, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that we need more. What we brought was ‘seed’ money — and the double cab ride expense took away a few seeds. So hold that thought about money.
It was quite a bus day – way more time on the bus than at the sights. With newfound information on our self-care, I am certain it’s because the excessive weight from these mouth-breathing Philistines was putting a drag on the bus. We finally arrived at the airport. More fails at the ATM. We were starving because half-way through the day Becky said “no time for lunch. You can eat at the airport.” Thanks Becks. Nothing like going from 8a to 5p without chicken feet and fish juice. So we tried. My beef and shrimp bowl was just fine. 
Clare settled on the rice and pork, or sausage, or chicken. We’re not sure. She was pretty out of the dinner game when she saw on the menu: Dachshund Chicken. I’m convinced it’s chicken they serve to tiny wiener dogs. Clare not so much. Now, I’ll give it to Clare. She’s been very adventurous on the food front. Yet today, when she pulled this out of the soup pot, I could not blame her for refusing to risk her bad circulatory health for the sake of an open attitude in a foreign culture.
We were happy to get on the plane and get the hell of the city of smog
The hour and a half plane ride to Shanghai would be a good time to catch a few winks. Which we did. When we awoke, we were on the tarmac! Woo hoo! Oh wait. We’re still in Beijing. I assume because of low visibility conditions. Another hour and a half later, we’re in Shanghai. Again we being the search for an ATM. We were pointed towards the third floor and lo and behold it worked! But we weren’t sure if the currency choices were in Yuan or US. Being over careful, Clare chose 100 – about 16 bucks. PHEW! The sweet sound of money being counted. Clare went in for a larger amount. Because we have the curse of the dragon upon us (our mouths must not have been facing outward and no one has rubbed our butts) the ATM denied any further money requests. Day 5. No Yuan for you.
Giving up on the money hunt for another day, we return to get our bags only to find that we have already exited the secure area. Our first meeting with our new guide “Kelly” is now a request to be readmitted to the baggage area to retrieve our luggage. 
Not off to a good start with this guide liking us. Despite our high hopes, when she mentioned she’s friends with Rebecca, all hope was lost.
Bags acquired. Another bus ride to Suzhou (the silk capital of the world.) The ride would take one half hour. Arguments ensued. I insisted this meant 30 minutes. Many others said, no, an hour and a half. Entering Day 6 — only Clare knows I’m kidding. 
One night in the Viennese themed hotel. White Europeans are a novelty here. So far, this is the best shot of the trip. (Zoom in on the words.) I’m sure they thought is was a beautiful sentiment of love and music splayed across the wall. We slept soundly dreaming of all the sample text that could be.
Roam Free 
Love this so much! This is what you need to be doing…just saying.
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