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A Silk Road Trip, or I Gobbed in the Gobi, China,1992, by Philip Spires Author: Philip Spires In August 1992, myself and my wife, Caroline, arranged a trip to post-Tiananmen China. It was in the days when the London China Travel office was on Cambridge Circus, opposite the Palace Theatre on Charing Cross Road. It took me at least twenty books, a late-night Japanese television series and several months to plan and arrange the trip from what was then our base in Balham, south London. In those days, you could arrange the visit via China Travel and then, as long as the itinerary was lodged in advance, you could travel absolutely independently. Everything was pre-paid, but on setting off, we had no tickets or confirmed reservations apart from our air tickets in and out of Beijing. As ever, I kept a journal of the trip, which ran to more than fifty pages. A few years later, I condensed the experience to two sides of A4, ignoring rules of grammar and syntax, and produced the following ramble, a perhaps poetic impression of nearly a month of travel. Ex-London while the Sun dissected Michael Jackson's nose and praised Boardman's hooterless gold-medal bicycle. Air China to Beijing, where taxis cost more than Lonely Planet predicts. A Chinese character itinerary from one Tim Han of China Travel whilst fellow workers drool over televised lithe Afro-American sprinters at the Olympics. Then to the no-longer Forbidden City. Piles of local tourists to negotiate. Four hours of Xinjiang Airlines to Urumqi. Signs in Chinese and Russian plus Uigur written in Arab script (a recent innovation). Land lines across Inner Mongolia. Why and how so straight? Urumqi multiple-peaked. Piles of coal, scruffy high rise, snow-capped Bogda Shen at street-end. Pavement fortune tellers, traders. Food stalls. Women washing sheeps' stomachs in a stream, tripe kebabs. Uigur town now Han Chinese, populated by Shanghai overspill, over 2000 miles from ‘home’. The second long march. Uigur breakfast. Hot sheep's milk, Chinese tea, flat tomato bread, sugared tomato and cucumber, pickled cabbage, thin congee, sheep's milk butter, two giant sugar lumps. Uigur market. Fruits amid a forest of hanging lamb. Chinese market. Live vegetables and meats. Tank over-spilling with energetic eels (unit price). Self-knotting spaghetti. Woman losing her gold watch at an illegal 'find the lady'. Policeman looking on. Tears when the loss hits home. Renmin Park for noodles and rocket-fuel chili sauce. Bag slashers with finger-ring knives on a crowded bus. Care needed. Car to Turfan. Fertile valleys. Barren mountains. Occasional snow. Road ploughed. Kazak yurts. Semi-sunken shade-making rammed-earth Uigur villages, invisible at a distance save for chimney smoke. Steep downhill gorge, spectacular river, rocks, white water and slate-grey hills. Into Turfan depression, snow-capped distance surrounding grey stone pit 100 miles across. 42 degrees at its base, 200 metres below sea level. Car ahead leaving tracks on molten road. A hefty gob from the driver irrigates. Gobi means stones. Plenty here. And then green. An oasis. A giant mirage? Turfan. Latticed vines for street-shade. Hanging raisin grapes. 15 yuan fine for casual picking. Hotel tea in galvanised buckets. Turkish-style dancing and music. Genghiz-sacked rammed-earth cities of Goachang and Jiaohe. Painted tombs and brick minarets. Flaming mountains. Karez underground irrigation system. 3000 kilometres of channels. 1500 years old, gravity-fed from mountains at the depression-edge. Uigur culture's greatest feat, and in full working order. Bus to Daheyan. Two hours over bumpy stones to depression-edge. Dump of a railway town. Coal heaps, box buildings, waste land. Two women at war on station forecourt. Ramming victim's head onto the ground. Blood. Onlookers. Inaction. A tense town of resentful postees. 500 miles to Liuyuan in Gansu. Featureless flat grey shale stone. Spectacularly unique. Snow mountains to the north. Utterly empty, save for smoking coal towns. 40 above in summer, 30 below in winter. Overnight by train. Dawn reveals same massive scene, now in brown. Arrive Liuyuan. Daheyan writ similar. 120 miles south across the desert (black at first!), past remnant ramparts of Han Dynasty Greater-Great Wall. Camels and dunes of Taklimakan, world's largest sand desert. Near Dunhuang oasis blossoms again. Sand and scree suddenly crop and tree. Feitian Hotel, with complimentary toiletries labelled Sham Poo and Foam Poo. Lunch. Fourteen dishes. Duck, foo-yong, cucumber, cabbage, oyster mushroom chicken, coriander pork, steamed buns, steamed bread, rice, beef broth and noodles, pork and green beans, pork and sweet chili, chicken and squash, plain noodles, water melon. Then to get the essential torch for the caves. Houses huddled together. Wood stores for winter piled on top. View across the roofs like a scrap heap. Ground level claustrophobic stoneware maze. Cave day. Mogao Buddhist caves - closed from 12 to 2, full day needed for perhaps the most stunning sight on earth. 400 'caves' (some cathedral size) in a sandstone gorge, between 400 AD to 1100 AD. Utterly dry, always dark, perfectly preserved. Everything painted. Tang period complex and colourful. A world of scenes by torchlight. Buddhas reclining, sitting, standing, posing. Thirty metre seated figure with thousands of unsmoked cigarettes and coins on his lap as offerings. Shock of Qing-renovated cave with Taoist figures. Ghoulish features, contorted, and a face in the groin. 40 caves seen in the day, archaeologist as a personal guide. Stunning. Fourteen dishes for dinner. Desert bus back to Liuyuan. Always a fight for seats. Three dusty hours. Train to Lanzhou. 800 miles along Gansu-Qinghai mountainous border. More black desert, then yellow earth. Jaiyaguan fort at the limit of the Ming empire. Overnight by train. Country changed. Mountain pass, green rolling hills and stepped fields. Wheat harvest in. Straw dollies like children at assembly. Houses still of rammed earth. Lanzhou a thriving industrial city. Thirty hours of travel. Walk by Yellow River. Fish in hotel restaurant tank all dead. Lanzhou bus expensive. 50 fen per trip. Radios and knitting banned. Han dynasty flying horse and bronze warriors. Steamed carp with rape on menu. The fish comes first. Train to Xian through yellow loess country. Deep furrows and gorges. All flat land cropped. 500 miles overnight. Terra cotta warriors facing east to guard Qin Shihuang's tomb. Made in pieces. Assembled in situ. Partly excavated section where piles of dismembered limbs emerge from the earth. New terra cotta warriors for sale from the factory behind the museum. Exact replicas of originals. Wheeze at the thought of the whole thing as a sham for the tourist trade. Xian, like all Chinese cities, a square. Roads straight, intersecting always at right angles. Ancient centre walled, Ming rebuilt. Old mosque exquisite. Xianyang nearby, with Seventh century Qian tombs, museum with another 3000 Han terra cottas like a football crowd. Train to Beijing. 800 miles, 26 hours. Houses often caves in valley side. Later immense flat land, maize everywhere. Temple of Heaven, Tiantan, and then Beijing Opera. Pause for beer at wayside stall. Served by moonlighting trainee stockbroker! Breakfast pickle amazing, like four year old camembert out of a shotgun. Takes the head off. Great Wall. Mucho touristico, but still stunning. Like climbing a giant ladder in places. "I climbed the Great Wall" T-shirts, prices lower the further you climb. Must be the air. Ming tombs dismissed by guide-book. Wrong. Amazing barrel vaulted rooms nine stories underground. Jade doors, carved thrones, marble, marble, marvel. Reminiscent of renaissance Italy. Everlasting bricks etched with names of their makers. Souvenir jade boat for 55000 pounds. White drapes over erotic statues in Tibetan Lama Temple. Same bestial content in wall paintings. 24 metre gold Buddha through the incense-blur. No smoking signs everywhere. Mao's Maosoleum an emperor's tomb. Lines for queues painted across the square. Feet pointing north towards Tiananmen Gate, upside-down feng shui. He is shiny, waxy and painted about the face. Moving lines file past on either side. No pausing. Outside, stalls with Mao T-shirts, Mao key rings, cuddly toys, post cards, magic lantern shows. Mao Zedong candy floss by the armful. Then Great Hall of the People. Dining room for 5000. Now fast food for tourists. Great Hall chop sticks, cigarettes, T-shirts. Great Hall of the People cuddly toys. 2500 miles. Three and a half weeks. 5 destinations. 50 caves. 6000 terra cotta warriors. 1 each Great Wall, Forbidden City, Beijing Opera, Mao Zedong. Hundreds of tombs, temples, pagodas, parks, bendi-buses and bicycles. 3 silk shirts on the Silk Road. One amazing trip. Article Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/exotic-locations-articles/a-silk-road-trip-or-i-gobbed-in-the-gobi-china1992-by-philip-spires-250323.html About the Author: Philip Spires Author of Mission, an African novel set in Kenya http://www.philipspires.co.uk Michael, a missionary priest, has just killed Munyasya. It was an accident, but Mulonzya, a politician, exploits the tragedy for his own ends. Boniface, a church worker, has just lost his child. He did not make it to the hospital in time, possibly because Michael went to the Mission to retrieve a letter from Janet, a teacher, and the priest’s neighbour. It is Munyasya who has the last laugh, however.

KASUBI TOMBS: A HOME OF GREAT TRADITIONAL CULTURE by Jackie Kisibo The Kasubi tombs, traditionally known as Muzibu-Azaala-Mpanga, a religious place in the Buganda kingdom is situated on a hill within Kampala-Uganda. The tombs are a burial place for the four previous Kings of Buganda known traditionally as Kabakas, and are situated five kilometers away from Kampala city center on Kasubi hill. Historically, Buganda Kabaka's have always built their palaces on startegic hills inorder to find easy ways to escape during an invasion and to control the major roads to the palace. The Baganda belong to the Bantu speaking people, one of Uganda's ethnic groups. According to tradition, the first Kabaka of Buganda was Kintu who is said to have come with his wife Nambi. Kabaka Kintu is said not to have died but to have disappeared into a forest at Magonga. The Kasubi tombs are one of the burial grounds/royal tombs of the Kabakas of Buganda, and the site is an example of traditional Ganda Architecture, culture and living traditions. The palace was built by Kabaka Mutesa 1 in 1882 and according to culture, each king was supposed to be buried at a separate site when he died and a royal shrine to house his jawbone which was believed to contain his spirit was to be established at another site. Mutesa 1 was the 35th King of Buganda (1856-1884) and the first king to be buried in his former palace (the Tombs) at Kasubi without removing his jawbone. Mwanga II who succeeded his father Mutesa in 1884 was the second king to be buried at the Tombs after his remains were brought back from exile (seychelles islands) in 1910. His son Daudi Chwa II succeeded him at the age of one year in 1896 and ruled until his death in 1939. He too was buried in the Tombs. Daudi Chwa II was succeeded by his son Edward Mutesa II and the then governor of the Uganda protectorate. He died in 1966 in exile (London) and his remains were brought back and buried in the Tombs in 1971. The Kasubi Tombs is an important Burial site for the Kabakas of Buganda because old traditions where broken at the site when the Kabakas were buried together. Each prince and princess who is a decendant of the four Kabakas is also buried at Kasubi behind the main shrine. The site is important as a cemetry of the royalty of the Buganda kingdom. The tombs comprise of the Bujjabukula (Gatehouse) a beautifully built gate, which is the entrance of the site. Its constructed with wooden columns and a wall made of wooden woven reeds.The gate leeds to a small courtyard with a circular house-House of Royal drums (Ndoga-obukaba) where the drums are kept. In the main courtyard, there are several houses built for the widows of the kabakas and other ritual purposes. At Kasubi and all other royal tombs, there is an area behind a back-cloth curtain known as kibira (forest)where the real Tombs of the kabakas are and where certain royal ceremonies are performed like the new moon ceremony and the consultations of the mediums. Infront of the curtain, there are raised platforms corresponding to the position of each kabakas tomb behind the curtain.Entrance to the "Secret forest" is anly limited to the widows of the Kabakas, the the royal family, the Buganda Prime-minister (katikkiro) and the Nalinya(kabakas official sister). The Kasubi Tombs are adorned with royal regalia like spears, drums,medals, photographs and shields of the kabakas buried there.The structure is supported by wooden poles wrapped in backcloth and the floor covered with grass and palm leaves mats. Backcloth traditionaly popular for clothing is a fabric made from the soft back of a fig tree (Ficus natalensis) and has a strong ritual importance to the people of Uganda. Thatching of the roof is carried out by members of the Ngeye clan (colobus monkey clan) ant the decorators of the poles are from the Leopard clan, who are the only people allowed to do this work.Pregnant women and widows are not allowed to enter the the building while its being thatched since this is believed to cause leakage.Similary, the thatchers are not supposed to haver sexual intercourse during the thatching period.The great roof is supported by 52 rings, which represent the 52 clans in the Ganda culture. The Baganda cultures can also be experienced at sites like Katereke prison where the king imperisoned his brothers in a trench.Naggalabi coronation site, Buddo where the kabakas of Buganda have been crowned for the past 700 years.Wamala Tomb the secret burial place of Kabaka Suuna II (1836-1856) who had 148 wives and 218 Children. Namasole Kanyange Tombs where the mother to Kabaka Suuna II was burried. Ssezibwa falls a spiritual place for the kings and Baagalayaze Nnamasole Tombs where the mother of Kabaka Mwanga II was burried. The magnificent features of the Kasubi tombs represent the rich traditions and heritage of the Baganda people. People believe that every persons death has a spiritual origin and there is interraction between the living and the dead. The cultures of the Baganda lie in the Magnificent Tombs, where the bodies and spirits of their fore fathers, rulers and traditions lie to date. For specifics contact Africa travel Emporium OR Uganda Safari Guide and Directory,- culture in Uganda, for kampala hotels, Uganda hotels , africa hotels for hotels in Africa. About the Author Jackie Kisibo is an author in Africa, and her articles can be found on Uganda Hotels , Kampala Hotels and Accommodation, Uganda safaris and tours guide .

Inside the Cave Bath at Miskolc-Tapolca, copyright Kiss András, 2005 THE CAVE BATHS: Miskolc -Tapolca - Hungary If you are thinking on going on holidays, perhaps traveling across Europe, you should consider visiting the caves situated in the former village of Tapolca - Hungary. It’s a one of a kind experience! Bye the way, you can visit the cave baths even in winter time as the large cave system has thermal water and wet and warm air all the time. If you are not traveling by car then make your way into Miskolc city and get the Number 2 bus (from the main bus station - Búza tér, in the centre of the town).       Read more HERE. _______________________________________________________________________

The Merry (Happy) Cemetery - Sapanta - Maramures - Romania. If you are planning in visiting Romania and have a good few days to do so, you might want to consider going to Sapanta, a small village located in the North of Romania. Once you are there, you will want to ask around for the location of… the cemetery. Yes, that is correct: the cemetery! The Sapanta cemetery is the creation of sculptor Stan Patras and is one of the funniest places you will ever see: In 1934, Patras began to write an epitaph on each and every cross he sculpted. Basically, these are short poems written in the first person, full of archaisms and intentional spelling errors. Every poem relates to the life of the person that passed away… Obviously, it would help if you would speak the language or have a translator with you… Enjoy! :) Click HERE to read more. Click HERE to see more pictures. P.S.: Dont take pictures of you in the cemetery. It's bad luck. ;) ___________________________________________________ March, the month of the lucky charms: MARTISOR Mărţişor is the traditional celebration of the beginning of the spring in Romania and Moldova, on 1 March. The day's name is the diminutive of March (in Romanian Martie), and thus means something like "little or dear March". Men offer women a small decorative object also called Mărţişor, consisting of a jewel or symbolizing a flower, an animal, etc., tied to a red and white string. This is a symbol of the coming spring, which the woman wears pinned to her blouse on this day, and up to two weeks after (or even the entire month of March). Occasionally, women also give such gifts to men. It is said that the Mărţişor originated from the Ancient Roman culture, where March (Martius) was the month of the war god Mars with a double role: both protector of agriculture and of war. This duality of symbols is kept in the colours of the Mărţişor: white and red, meaning peace and war (it might also symbolize winter and spring). This custom can be found in all areas where Romanians live. Bulgarians also have an almost identical tradition on the 1 March, called "Martenitsa". In other parts of the country such as Moldova or Bucovina the symbol of the spring was a gold or silver medal which was worn around the neck. After wearing the coin for twelve days, they bought sweet cheese with the medal, because it was believed that their faces would remain beautiful and white the entire year.                          So... if you are in Romania or planning to go there, be prepared. ;) Important tip: If you are an expat living and working in Romania (or Moldova) you should know that you can not  show up at the office with only one martisor: for your female boss, or… the girl you fancy! Big No No!   In March all girls are special.   And remember: 8th of March is Mothers Day (also called Women’s day in Romania). This time around, flowers are a must for all the girls (even one little flower will do).   Enjoy March! To send an e-card martisor click HERE .