Having just made amends with Sanya, I found myself up at 5:30am to leave.
Which was a shame. But at least I was leaving on a high with an openess to coming back again. So I'll look at the positives of it.
And it was the first time in a while and last time until Vietnam that I'll be breaking sweat from hauling my backpack. But walking to the bus station in a humid 26°c (or whatever it was at that time of morning) will have that affect.
The first leg of my journey to Yangshuo took me on a bus from Sanya to Haikou. And this went without a hitch. Although planning for delays, I found myself in Haikou with quite a lot of time to kill. Which meant that I had plenty of time to harass Chinese taxi drivers in search of a better price. It also meant that I had a little while to talk with the only other white person that I'll see all day, who was hanging around outside the bus station that I'd got dropped off at.
But what I decided to do with my dilemma, was go to the South bus station. Of the two choices that I had, it was the nearest to my current location (so cheapest to get to), and the 15:00 of which I'd told to be there, was an hour and a half earlier than the 16:30 of which I'd been told to be at the ferry terminal bus station. So I thought that I'd try my luck there first.
And basically after a lot of snooping around at the South station, some member of staff motions me to sit down. Wait until three o'clock.
Ok... it's 12:30.
So that was another 150 minutes of aimless staring into space added onto my day. But... there was a lot of cute Chinese girls moseying around this bus station. So it could have been worse.
Another thing that I noticed, is that in keeping with China's tradition of unnecessary cruelty to animals, a vastly high proportion of people at this terminal were carrying either ducks or chickens, either in boxes, or tied into bags.
I'm not sure why.
Is torturing a bird to death and then eating it a part of spring festival tradition?
Actually I think that's just part of daily tradition to these sick bastards.
But time passed.
2:00... 2:30... 3:00.
"Where's my fucking bus?"
Just wait. It will be here.
3:10... 3:15... 3:20.
How long am I going to wait, before jumping into a taxi to the ferry passenger terminal? 3:30 is the deadline that I set myself. Any later than that and I might struggle to make it.
3:25... 3:26... 3:27...
"Guilin... Guilin..."
Finally.
Those last twenty-seven minutes hadn't been that enjoyable as I trusted my over-priced ticket detailing a bus leaving from a different bus station, to the knowledge of bus station workers, barely more professional than those at the Qingdao PSB.
And oh great. It's already standing-room only on this bus.
I don't know where this bus had started its route. But it sure as Hell wasn't here.
And to be honest, it was only because of my willingness to push Chinese people out of the way, that I got onto this bus at all. Many did not. But this was not the luxury that I was hoping to travel in.
I was standing up on a cramped bus. And right next to me was a little kid throwing up into a bag.
Oh this is going to be a fun trip to Guilin.
I wish that I had a video clip to show you of the extraordianary shouting match that the bus driver, and one of the bus terminal employees got into right about now. It was pretty intense. But I was having all kinds of camera problems today. And when I pulled out my camera to film, it wouldn't turn on.
So I have no video.
Which is a shame because it got pretty fucking exciting for a while.
Here I am, stood on a cramped bus, kid vomitting into a bag next to me, and two Chinesers are going ape-shit at each other.
Ah China. I'm going to miss you when I'm gone.
What I hadn't established, was is this the bus that I'll be going on, all the way to Guilin? Or is this just a bus to take me to the ferry passenger terminal?
Under normal circumstances, considering the price of my ticket, I'd have expected a fucking four-poster bed for this trip. But prices get hiked for Chinese new year. I knew that. So was this just the cost of a normal ticket over the spring festival.
Fuck I was hoping not. But as I was looking around the bus, I saw that the blinds above the windscreen had print on them indicating that this bus was from Guilin. And if this bus is from Guilin... oh fuck.
There's no point fretting about what I have no control over though. So I count up the quarters.
We should be arriving in Guilin within seventeen and a half hours from now. That's 70 quarters of an hour. Right now I'm on one. But every quarter of an hour that I'm stood next to this vomitting child, I add on one. Once I reach seventy, we're in Guilin.
It wasn't going to be a fun night. But what the fuck can I do other than make the best of the situation.
I'm not 100% that this is my bus to Guilin. But the writing on the windows didn't inspire me with confidence. And though I'm still hoping for the best, I am prepared for the worst.
This is China. Nothing surprises me anymore.
After half an hour or so, we're pulling into the ferry passenger terminal. After pushing some more Chinese people out the way, I take my ticket and I show it to the driver.
To my thankful relief, he motions me off the bus, and into the terminal where I'll get another bus.
I could have kissed that angry, fat bastard right there. He just saved me seventeen hours on my feet next to a vomitting child.
It does mean though that I'd hung around in the first bus station for three hours, waiting for a bus just to bring me here.
To be honest, I wish that I hadn't fucking bothered.
If I'd known for sure that this is where I'd end up, I'd have rather paid the £2 more to get a taxi down here, and put my bag into storage and had a couple of hours in Haikou.
I'm sure that when I bought my ticket, the people at the South bus station thought that they were being helpful by telling me to come back there. But I'd have almost preferred it if they hadn't have bothered.
I think that I must be looking lost. Because this Chinese girl comes up to me and, in English, asks me if I need any help.
Turns out that she's on the same bus going to Guilin, and we get talking for a while.
One thing I ask her, is where she learnt English.
"Oh. My major is business," she tells me.
So she doesn't even study English. She studies business, and they make learning English a part of the business curriculum here. And yet, although I have to simplify what I say and talk very slowly, we can have a very amicable conversation.
She's never been to America. She's never been to England. She's never been to Australia (even though they barely speak English). No, she's never left China. And yet here she is, speaking very high-level English with me.
I took Spanish for a year at university. You know what I learnt?
Fuck all. And yet I passed with a decent grade.
I was forced to take French at school for five years. You know how much French I can speak today?
Bonjour, au revoir, je voudrais, un deux trois quatre cing six sept huit neuf dix onze dooze. That's about it.
And I spent almost nine months in the Spanish speaking pasts of South America (not to mention time in Mexico). And I cannot speak Spanish as well as she can speak English.
I'm not sure if this is a reflection on my laziness and ineptness. Or if China just has a far superior eductation system to ours. But a business major, having never had to speak English out of the classroom before, can have a perfectly good conversation with me.
When I studied Spanish for a year, and passed, I probably knew less Spanish than French.
I think that the Chinese might have a slightly better curriculum than ours.
It was nice that she was on this bus. Because not only did I now have someone to talk to, and she was a very friendly and sweet person. But I also had a translator for the journey. Which is always welcome.
And this was a bed bus. Which it fucking should have been for the price that I was paying. So thankfully it wasn't going to be seventeen hours of standing next to a vomitting child to Guilin.
What the point of loading the bus, driving about a hundred yards, and then telling everyone to get off again because we're at the ferry is, I'm not sure. Would it not make more sense just to load the bus back on the mainland? Save ferrying these buses back and forth everyday?
Whatever though.
The boat journey thankfully goes without event this time.
Back on the bus we have one more stop before driving until about 11:30pm. And as my translator tells me, we're stopping so the driver can get dinner.
Normally I'd have nothing to do with Chinese service station food. But so far on this day, I've had half a bag of crisps, three cookies, and about ten small cakes. So even a service station meal has to be better nutrition than that. Something to fill me up before bed.
The problem is that the driver rushed off the bus. And he got food first. And I know that as soon as he's finished and is ready to go, we are going to go. So I found myself in a chopstick race with this Chinese bus driver.
Chinese... bus driver.
I ate like a fucking savage. I was just shovelling in whatever I could get my chopsticks around. I had grease all over my face. But what am I to do? I'm in a chopstick race with a Chinaman. This ain't no damn beauty pageant.
And I fucking won!
In fact not only did I shovel in all my food before the driver was ready to go. But I had the time to buy another packet of crisps, and take a piss down this sheer ledge right outside the toilet. Because the toilet charges 5p.
And you call yourself a Chinaman.
Chopstick king right here.
Remembering the elegance that I had perhaps lacked over dinner, it was a little surprising that I'd caught the attention of a girl whilst I was eating. But as I'm standing outside waiting for this slow-ass bus driver to hurry up, this Chinese girl comes up to me, and we have a conversation that pretty much mirrored exactly the conversation I'd had with my translator back in Haikou.
But then she says, "you must be very intelligent. You can use your left hand."
I fucking love China.
I can eat like a fucking cave man. And yet people still think that I'm clever here.
Me... clever!
All because I'm left-handed.
Why don't we have these rules back in England?
And she was quite blatantly hitting on me, all because I can eat with my left hand.
"Where are you from?"
"I'm from England."
"Oh, English people have such beautiful eyes, and really perfect noses."
Ok. That's a bit weird. But ok.
All because I'm left-handed!
If I can't get a proper job when I go back to England because I wasted so much of my life as a bum, I am moving to China! People think I'm clever in China, even before they hear me speak.
And apparently, that intellect then makes my nose look attractive as well.
She wanted to take my phone number. Obviously I don't have one, so I gave her my email address. But both her, and her friend, were enamoured as I wrote it down, using my left hand.
I've got to try and get this implemented when I get home. This whole 'left handed people are clever' thing. It would make my life so much better if I got this everywhere in the world.
A hot girl wants my phone number because I can write with my left hand!
I'm yet to receive an email.
She's probably a bit shy. I mean... I am a genius afterall.
Oh and all of this conversation was from solely classroom English as well. They certainly do have a more effective education system here with regard to language learning.
And it's obviously not just my ineptness that's the problem. Because I write with my left hand I'll have you know.
It was nice that I'd had these two girls to talk to today. Because with the exception of the whitey that I ran into in Haikou, I hadn't seen another non-Chineser all day. Even on the ferry of thousands of people. So it's nice to have someone to talk to occasionally.
For most of the rest of the way into Guilin, I slept. And I was happy that this journey took almost eighteen hours, rather than the twelve that some sources predicted. Because it meant that I was able to get a full nights sleep. And it meant that I wasn't arriving in Guilin at 4:30am, and having to wait around for hours for Yangshuo buses to start.
I lost my translator in the mild melee as we arrived. Which was a shame because I never got to say goodbye to her. And there was the predictable tout waiting for me the second that I step off the bus.
"Oooph. It's spring festival, it's crazy in there, no more buses left to Yangshuo, but I can take you."
Of course not. Do I really look that dumb?
Half the people in this country think that I'm a genius. But then this guy seems to think that I'm dumb enough to fall for this trick.
It's a short queue-up to get to the ticket desk. And guess what? Loads of tickets left to Yangshuo. Y20. Bus leaving in fifteen minutes.
The station was a tad crowded. I'm not going to deny that it was a little busier than normal. But considering all the scare-mongering I'd encountered as to how "impossible" it is to travel over the spring festival, I was very disappointed with how mellow it was. Because I had drastically altered my Chinese plans, specifically for this festival.
Lonely Planet says to not even bother trying to travel over Chinese new year. Although I can't blame them solely seeing as I did seek out a lot of other online and in person sources (although how many of those online sources wrote what they wrote because they read it in Lonely Planet?). But... seeing as I basically forgot about Qinghai and Gansu because of how "impossible" it is to travel over the spring festival. And I earmarked the next ten days to be split between just Yangshuo and Nanning. And I even made a lot of other plan changes, and sacrifices (such as the dedicated trip up to Haikou) because of the apparent chaos of spring festival, I was very disappointed that I just strolled up to the counter and just bought a ticket on a bus leaving fifteen minutes from now. And that the station wasn't even that busy.
I almost just feel like I've been deceived.
I didn't especially look around every bed. But I don't even think that my bus to Guilin was sold out.
But I'd just heard so many things, been told so many... lies, that I completely altered the course of my final 30 days in China to suit the expectations of this "crazy" spring festival. And yet here it was. Barely worse than any other day.
I'm not going to think about it too negatively. Because there's no telling whether I would have made it to Qinghai anyway. And even if I did, there's no telling whether it would have been a good experience or not. It would have been fucking freezing in those mountains and I might have fucking hated it. And despite the lack of adventure and excitement, these last stops of Dali, Kunming, Nanning and Sanya, have been mostly enjoyable. So there's no guarantee that things would have been better any other way. But I still don't like the idea that I drastically altered all of my plans, for a spring festival, which is basically a load of lies.
It's not remotely chaotic.
I'm sure in Beijing it is. A girl in my Yangshuo dorm came from Shanghai. And apparently there it is. But I had no plans to go to Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Xian, or anywhere else major like that for the spring festival. I wanted to go to the Qinghai mountains. And the fact that I didn't end up doing that, at least partly motivated by the inaccurate fear of what this festival would be... that wrangles me slightly. It could have been fun up there.
Although like I say, I'm not going to let it bother me too much. Because I'll never know. I might have hated Qinghai. I might have died in Qinghai.
But my bus to Yangshuo, it was only about half full. I had a double seat. This is the crazy spring festival?
What a fucking joke.
It's one example in an endless line of Lonely Planet scare-mongering that turned out quite simply, to be false.
And like I say, I know better than to trust their judgement for anything anymore. So I did seek other advice. But to be honest, I don't even think that Chinese new year would have crossed my mind had I not previously read in Lonely Planet that it was an impossible time to travel. And I wish that I hadn't considered it. Because if this is all it is... I could be in Qinghai right now, is all I'm saying. I could be in Qinghai.
Judging by what they say, I can only think that Lonely Planet hasn't even been in this country for spring festival. Because it's not even remotely like how they tell it. And again my plans have changed because of what they've told me.
Fucking useless books they are.
You know how many authors wrote this Lonely Planet book?
Eleven!
Do you know how many provinces there are in China?
Very generously including Shanghai, Hong Kong, Beijing and Macau as provinces seeing as they each get their own chapter in Lonely Planet China, there are 34 Chinese provinces. That's just three provinces, per writer.
That's not a lot. That's really not a lot to write about. How do they get so much of their information, completely and utterly wrong? It's ridiculous.
People will hang on every single word of these books. They will alter travel plans depending on what's written. They will take "trips of a lifetime" based on Lonely Planet recommendations. And yet, I can't help but feel that they abuse such responsibility, by just not giving a fuck what they write to be quite honest.
I can very clearly tell, that they are not writing half the stuff from personal experience. I mean, you can write a travel book just using Wikipedia nowadays there's so much information on there.
I honestly have serious doubts that they even visit half the places that they recommend. Because how else can the information be so consistently inaccurate?
Give me a year, a budget, and a visa, and I truly believe that I could write a better book than this solo. Not because I'm any good, but because they are so crap. And yet, what else have I got to go on? I kind of need to make decisions using this book. It's just such a pain that I can't trust half of what I'm reading. And had Lonely Planet not scared me in the first place, then I probably wouldn't have bothered even researching into the spring festival. I would have just gone to Qinghai.
Which frustrates me to know. Because now that the festival is here, and basically everything is exactly the same as it was before... did I waste this month in China?
There no way to tell what would have happened if I had gone to Qinghai. So like I said, there's no point fretting about it. But I at least want be able to make decisions based on accurate information.
Sometimes I make bad decisions. But then at least that's on my back. You know? At least I'm still in control. I hate it that I'm making decisions based on, basically, lies. Highly inaccurate information.
I would rather this book be completely undetailed but have everything included be accurate, than have so much misinformation.
And it's probably not designed for people who exensively backpack the whole country. It's probably a book only designed for people who come on their two week holidays who don't have the time to appreciate what a load of shit it is. But... that doesn't help me. And when I make decisions based on false information, that's very, very frustrating. Because how many opportunities in my lifetime am I going to have to backpack around China?
My youth very evidently isn't going to last forever. And I can't put my body through this without it. Am I going to have another three months in China to rectify these errors before my body can't withstand this abuse anymore?
Who knows? I wish that I didn't have to wonder about what I would have done this time around had things been written accurately though. You know? Very, very frustrating.
As is consistent with God's distain for me at present, after around thirty hours sat in bus stations and buses, we are very literally, pulling into the Yangshuo terminal, and it starts pouring it down with rain. Heavily. Fucking God.
In the hope that it's a shower, I take my stuff and go and sit in the terminal waiting room for it to die down.
I'm sitting there. And I can hear a dog. Which is strange, because I haven't seen any dogs in bus or train stations anywhere in China before. I can't see this one though either. Must be hidden behind a row of chairs or something.
A little time passes. And I can still hear it yelping. Almost in disress. So I stand up to see if I can see where it is. But still no dog.
Then I see this white sack moving about. No air holes or anything, just tied closed at the top, and inside is this dog frantically looking for a way out. Yelping in fear.
Now I know why I'm hearing these cries, I have to pick up my bag and leave the station. I will honestly have nightmares of this screaming tonight. And I couldn't sit there and hear it continue. I had to leave.
At least with the ducks, people give them a hole to put their heads out of.
It's not a nice way to go, but at least they treat them with a small degree of dignity, and at least let them breathe.
In this sack though, there was a dog, which sounded like a puppy, just in absolute distress. And this couple with it weren't here bus-spotting, you know? They were getting a bus somewhere. Which meant that this dog would be getting loaded up into the luggage hold, tied into his sack, and fuck knows how long he was going to have to stay there in the dark. Unable to see. Barely able to breathe. Probably in a bag of its own shit.
I know they eat dog in Yangshuo. I've read that if you go to the market here, you'll see them skinning dogs. But this was just another example of the absolute disregard for the feelings and emotions that Chinese people have for other living creatures.
I will very literally have nightmares tonight, of the sound of this dog. He was terrified. Like I say, a puppy by the sound of it. And its two "owners" were just standing around having conversation. Pushing the sack back under the chair with their feet anytime that it moved too far.
They're a fucking conscienceless race, the Chinese. They really are.
I know that I write a lot of things in a somewhat satirical tone. So you can't always take literally what I say. But I say very, very seriously, that this race of people truly deserves all the pain and suffering that comes their way in their existence.
When I think about things like the Nanjing massacre, it actually makes me smile. I wish that more people here had got raped and slaughtered when I see things like this. Because like I've said again recently, I don't have a problem with people eating meat. You can make a very strong argument that it is a natural thing for humans to do. And although I try to minimise my consumption, that's my choice. If you want to eat meat then I'm not going to hold it against you.
I hold an absolute distain however, for the deliberate mistreatment of an animal, before it's slaughtered. Before it becomes meat. And in China, I just see endless examples of what I deem animal torture, simply to generate a greater profit. Or simply to create a slightly fresher meal. And for that I really do hold a hatred for this country. I think that these are disgusting people.
Not all of them obviously. But enough of them. Enough of them that I'm comfortable generalising the race.
And I have positive things that I can say about China. I have friends that I've made here that I might keep. But that doesn't stop me living with a hope; a genuine, genuine hope, that these people people personally endure a suffering similar to what they inflict on other living things.
And they do so gleefully may I add.
The Japanese came to Nanjing. They burned their houses, raped their women, and murdered them.
Good. I'm all for it. I hope they come back and do it again. Because they truly deserve to be taught a harsh lesson, that you don't disregard the emotion and feeling of another living creature, for your sole personal gain. That to me is conscienceless living.
If you want take a boat out into the lake and catch a fish, that's fine. If you want to kill a mosquito that's flying around your room. That's fine too. That's just a human adaptation of a very natural process.
If you want to torment a live dog by keeping it in an enclosed sack without so little as an airhole and putting it in a luggage hold on a bus, just so you can take it to your family to kill it, because it will be a little bit fresher that way... no. That I can't condone. And for the inhumane acts that I've seen in China, I do hope that these people suffer an equal pain and torture.
Makes me wish that I did believe in God, and that I could live in the knowledge that they will ultimately end up in Hell.
Unfortunately logical thought doesn't allow me to. But I can still hear the screams of this dog today. And I would love to witness the suffering of anyone benefiting from such torturous practice.
It was a man and a woman that had this "package". And if I were to hear the screams of pain of her being forcefully ravaged it would be music to my ears. Just so that she could understand that feeling of helplessness and fear.
You don't treat anything which feels emotion and suffers fear and pain, like that. You don't do it. You certainly don't enjoy doing it like most people do in China.
Like I said in a previous blog, in some local areas such as the Nanning market, torture is a selling point. It pulls people into a restaurant and it increases turnover. And it's why I genuinely, genuinely believe that a proportion of the Chinese race literally evolved without conscience.
It bothered me when I saw this today. It really fucking bothered me.
I always say that I'm not going to get involved when I see things like this. And I stuck to that. But I had to leave the bus station. I couldn't stand to hear the cries of this dog anymore. It was excruciating to hear.
As I'm sure you can appreciate, it was a great start to Yangshuo.
What I had been feeling already, and still felt when I arrived at the hostel, is that seeing as transport isn't only possible during spring break, but is actually very fucking easy, what justification is there for me to stay in this small town of Yangshuo for six nights as initially planned?
I still checked-in for six. But even if it's a refundless policy (which is highly unlikely. Most hostels just have a 24-hour cancellation policy) I am only paying about £2.50 per night for my bed. So is it worth staying here for say, two unproductive days, when I could have a couple of days instead in Guilin? Somewhere like that?
We'll see. I don't know what I'm going to do yet.
My hostel is ok with the exception that smoking is incredibly prevelant in the only indoor common area (another example of Chinese people getting pleasure from the discomfort of others). And it's too bloody cold and rainy to be sat outdoors. I don't know the temperature here. But it's certainly not the 26°c of Sanya.
But to write this blog, I am doing it in bed just to get away from the smoke. So do I want to stay here for six days?
My initial impression of the town, forgetting anything that I'd seen in the bus station, is that it's got a distinctive Luang Prabang feeling about it (not a good thing). And I was honesly embarrassed to walk down the street when I went out for a wander this afternoon.
Perhaps exceeding even Dali, it is the most touristy place that I've been to in China. And all the junk that these souvenir shops are selling, is aimed distinctly at white people. So before even talking to me or interacting with me in any way, people already have the lowly opinion of me as being dumb enough and naïve enough to buy this stuff, just because of the colour of my skin.
So I was a little embarrassed to be white, because of these preconceptions.
I can't blame the Chinese people though. They are just going to sell what people buy. I blame the other white people that come here. Who are some of the most embarrassing that I've encountered around the world.
Partly why this has a "Luang Prabang" vibe, is that there's scores of dumb whites here, who walk around, in China remember, just talking to people in English and assuming that they'll understand.
Much to their credit, most of the time, the local people in this very touristy town do.
But still. Ths is China. Just going up to people and speaking English is very disrespectful in my opinion.
I don't speak any Chinese. But I don't assume that anyone I speak to knows English either. I'll always kind of go up, and point, or act out what I want.
And it's very presumptive, classless and disrespectful, to assume that people speak English.
I don't care that this is a tourist town and that most people here do. You're still in China. You still should carry yourself with a certain dignity by being respectful to local customs.
In my opinion at least.
So I do somewhat find myself embarrassed by the colour of my skin here. And I have only been out of the hostel the once.
Yangshuo grew on me though.
I wanted somewhere a bit touristy for the spring festival didn't I?
And I know that was on the assumption that spring festival would be something that it's not. But still. I can't complain that this place is too touristy when it's exactly the reason that I came here.
And one reason that it grew on me, particularly still reeling from the dog in the bus station, was because of how many cafes were promoting themselves on the quality of their vegetarian food.
That's very rare in Asia in general. Particularly in China.
And I'm fully aware that it's completely for the benefit of tourists. But it's still a welcome anomoly considering how proudly barbaric China usually carries itself.
And despite the lack of authenticity, I could happily spend a week working around the streets of reasonably-priced Western restaurants.
If I got a veggie burger for every meal for the next six days, I wouldn't have to eat at the same place twice. So there is an upside to being here. But seeing as it's only 90-minutes away, and seeing as I don't know if I'll ever be in this part of the world again, fitting in Guilin seems a logical thing to do. Although we'll see. I don't know yet.
One thing that I eluded to earlier, and I'm not sure if I'm going to go there or not but feel could be a good educational experience if I did, is the night market here. And judging by Lonely Planet's description (so who knows the accuracy) it is significantly more graphic than even that in Nanning.
Like I said, they will even skin dogs there. Hopefully not alive, but nothing would surprise me with these sick fucks.
I don't know if it will be more educational or traumatic though. So that's something that I'll think about.
Seeing as I'm expecting nightmares because of a dog in a sack though, how I'll react to a dog without skin, I don't know. But that was the one "authentic" thing to do that jumped out at me in Yangshuo.
But for now I'm here. And what could have been an incredibly problematic journey from Sanya, went comparatively without a problem. So there's very little to get in the way now between here and Vietnam.
Although based on my current attitude towards Chinese people, that's probably no bad thing.
They aren't all bad. And there are some Chinese people that are lovely and friendly. But... some things in life I just can't condone. Smoking and animal cruelty are two of those. And China just seems to do its utmost to push them in my face at any opportunity. So they can't be too surprised when I wish upon the demise of their race once in a while now can they?
Animal torture goes on here. I don't like it, but that's China. I just don't like to see it. I like to be ignorant to things in life. Which may perhaps contradict the purpose of backpacking. But I just don't like to know that somewhere in China, not too far from Yangshuo, there's a dog tied into a sack, no air-hole, it can't breath. It's scared, and upset, it's being tortured in a luggage hold, all for a fresher, finer cut of meat. I don't need to know that. And I have doubts about my own integrity as a human that I see it and do nothing about it as a result.
Just keep it away from me. You know?
I'm sure if all of us knew the truth about most of the products that we use in our daily lives. Whether it be animal torture, slave-labour, whatever. I'm sure that all of us (except Chinese people, because they have no conscience) would have trouble sleeping. I just don't need to see that. You know? It just spawns a hatred for any party connected to it. And I'd rather be a dumb guy that can sleep at night, than a smart guy that can't. I'm happy to be ignorant. Because I have a conscience.
I like this country. But to make no bones about it, sometimes China sickens me.
Today China sickened me. Today I wish nothing but harm to these people.