Tyring Times

Breakfast in an idyllic riverside setting.  Freshly cut fruit, freshly cooked omelette and fresh baguette washed down with Laos coffee.  A little tip for those troubled by ants.  Take a dinner plate.  Pour iced water on it.  Put a cereal dish in centre then place fruit bowl on top.  That kept the little blighters at bay. More effective than using talcum powder and less likely to taint the food.

I could have stayed there all day but we had a busy itinerary ahead.  Our visit to the Tham Jang caves tested our fitness.  After a balance test of crossing a suspension bridge with a few dodgy planks, our next endurance test was to climb 147 steep, stone steps.  That doesn't sound too taxing.  On a very hot, humid day after a large breakfast, it seemed like hard work to me.  

But I made it to see the caves used by the locals for fifteen years from 1960.  Their countryside was bombed mercilessly, so they stayed indoors all day.  At night, they came out to fetch provisions and tend fields.  We were only inside for an hour but found it difficult to walk on slippery rocks in the gloom.  Imagine being there for years.

The view as we emerged was another heart stopper.  I fear I  running out of adjectives to convey the scene.  The river, emerald fields and mountains topped with a blue sky.

Our long journey to Luang Prabang across mountains, involved 3872 bends. My face must have been a picture when I heard that revelation.  I am not the world's best car traveller.  In for a penny...

After many, many bends, we made a stop at a village.  We were asked not to take photos here.  What a mystery.  Was it the tiger balm ointment made with buffalo marrow or the bottles containing a peculiar alcoholic brew.  These were supposed to assist gentlemen in maintaining a certain pleasurable activity. Rats, squirrels and birds, alive and dead were for sale.  I felt a desire to free the beautiful birds.  A blue kingfisher trapped in a cage.  I have learned to accept that these people are poor.  They work hard and eat whatever is available.  The mushrooms, some larger than a satchel, others as thin as a straw would have been a preferable addition to my plate.

Onwards and upwards.  My car troubles diverted by the landscape and lifestyles we saw.  Huts on sticks in paddy fields, used as shelter by workers when the heat was oppressive.  Stooped women carried goods on their backs in woven baskets, like the old fishwives from the Seaboard villages.  

We took our lunch at a mountain peak where large butterflies fluttered around.  I chose a 'safe' egg and cashew nut dish. A warning should have accompanied  the sauce.  Phone the Fire Brigade.  My mouth was on fire.  Thank goodness for iced water.

Our journey hit a problem in the shape of a flat tyre.  It was repaired in the next village.  I was offered a stool.  I perched like a memsahib watching a rather outdated, yet effective method of tyre repair was carried out.  Two toddlers played happily around until one cut her finger. Like a shot our guide was off, returning shortly, bearing leaves.  It was an 'Ah Grasshopper' moment.  The bleeding and crying stopped immediately.  This magic leaf can also soften kidney stones.  Anyone needing some??

One screw and a nail removed, we were on the move in the capable hands of our capable driver.  I watched primary age children carrying all manner of containers.  They trudged down the mountains to collect water for their homes.  Some Aquarolls needed here.  Women, fully clothed, showered and washed their hair at water points.  Others washed clothes in streams.

Yet, so close to this poverty was luxury.  We are luxuriating in it tonight.  Our hotel used to be a royal home.  Our elegant room boasts a polished wood floor.  Our bed is draped with a mosquito net.  Another hit on my bucket list.  As I started to blog, a tropical storm disturbed   my peace. Loud thunderclaps, three broad lightening flashes heralded an hour of power cuts and heavy rain.  But all is calm now.

So, a little something to make you smile before I depart.  Quote of the day happened while hubby thought I was blogging.  Actually I was on the toilet.  'Have you finished downloading yet?' he asked.

Signing off with a smile x x

Jimminy Cricket

If you are vegan, vegetarian, animal activist or just plain squeamish, please omit this blog from your reading list.  You see, today our travels took us to local markets.  At the first, baskets, bowls and rattan cages held all manner of creatures.  I saw the usual chicks, ducks, geese and fish.  But have you ever seen frogs, slugs, gekko, snakes, locusts and grasshoppers?  I confess, I had never even heard of a bamboo rat, let alone seen one.  With the teeth of a beaver, yet resembling a large guinea pig, it was not a happy chappie.  It hissed if you approached it.  Bet it is hissing in a pot tonight.  

We were offered some titbits.  Like Carole Thatcher in the jungle, we rose to the challenge.  Ever the gent, hubby let me go first.  First the boiled bee larvae from the honeycomb.  Hmm bit chewy but no real flavour.  Now for something more adventurous - fried, salted crickets.  Oh yummy.  More please.  They could replace popcorn as my favourite snack.  Must tell Mr S.  he could start another business.

At the next market more food, jewellery and fish.  Enormous ugly fish bubbling away in oxygenated water.  I did not fancy eating the raw glass fish piled high in a big bowl, surrounded by flies.  

The final market was hubby's worst nightmare.  Fish, fish and more fish.  Raw, smoked, pickled, salted.  It was all there.  Flavoured with chillies, garlic, herbs or lime.  Packaged and open to the elements.  You had your choice.  We chose not.

Back to the bus.  Now I know I have mentioned unusual powered bike activity several times.  Today we saw the ultimate.  I am gutted I did not catch it on camera but it did happen.  An obviously ill driver was hooked up to an intravenous drip. The passenger held it aloft on a bamboo pole.  What do you think of that Dr D??

Children in pristine white shirts and dark bottoms made the one and a half mile home for lunch in sauna conditions.  Yet they all smiled and larked around.

The countryside grew more lush.  We were in rainforest territory.  Our knowledgeable guide didn't just name teak, rubber, mahogany and sandalwood trees.  He also explained their uses.  I once had some sandalwood that hung on a ribbon in my wardrobe.  Wonder which house I left that in?!

We arrived at The Elephant Crossing Hotel in Vang Vieng.  It had been described as basic, so we were somewhat apprehensive.  We needn't have worried.  What it lacked in finesse, was more than compensated by the mind-blowing views and the friendly staff.  OK, there were a few mislaid tiles and dodgy lagging in the shower.  I can tell you, it was Paradise compared to some of our experiences.

We chose to go for a ride in a tuk tuk to the Blue Lagoon. We tootled over a long Billy Goats Gruff bridge, along a track with tremendous views of the mountains.  We just dropped in to the local primary school to say 'Hello'.  The kids loved it and the teachers didn't seem to mind.  Working with pens and paper.  Not a computer in sight.  The children back home don't know how lucky they are.  

A mile and several cows further on, we arrived at the Blue Lagoon.  I thought we would be one.  Silly me.  About twenty young men and nubile women were cavorting in the water or jumping in from high tree branches.  Now, Brooke Shields I am not.  I feared revealing my white podgy body.  Hubby told me not to do a 'Miami Hat'.  I have always regretted not buying that floppy hat with a pink flower.  That phrase convinced me to remove my outer clothes and tiptoe to the edge.  The young people welcomed me with open arms.  They showed me the best entry points and gave me a helping hand when the current was starting to carry me away.  I did not panic Mr Mainwaring!!  Hubby finally beckoned me out of the cool water. 'Come in Number Six.  Your time is up'.  

It didn't take long to dry.  We were soon back in the tuk tuk.  We had a brief stop to watch a local weaver demonstrate her skill.  We would have bought from her, but our money was at the hotel.  She worked a hand loom, just like my ancestors did two hundred years ago. Glorious colours and intricate patterns.

We chose to walk across the bridge to take some photos.  We met a very happy couple.  They were thrilled to bits, having caught a squirrel for tea!!!!

After a shower and rest, we had a meal at a local restaurant.  No squirrel for us thanks.  And on that tasty note, I bid you all a 'Good night'.

Soul Searching

If today's blog is not as humorous as usual, I make no apology.  Let me describe some of the day and perhaps you will understand why.

We travelled on the bumpiest, dustier road I have ever experienced.  Even with our good suspension, we rocked and tossed around.  It rivalled Space Mountain in Florida any day.  Houses and small shack shops lined the way, selling all manner of goods from dried buffalo to modern Magnums.  Unusual transport weaved their way round the potholes.  Tiny tuk tuks to cans on four wheels holding a dozen people.  Oh a cow.  I shouted first Sally!!

At the Buddha Park, I made my own personal journey through what can only be described as a giant upturned cauldron.  Around you went, viewing statues showing life's struggles.  I climbed to the next layer.  Steep, narrow stairs with no handrail.  Another layer and then I reached Heaven.  The stonework sides barely reached my knees.  With a rictus smile, I posed for hubby who stayed below.  I sat down firmly to restore my inner self before attempting the return journey.  Coming up had been a challenge.  Going down was a battle.  With no handrail, down I went on all fours, reaching behind fearfully one foot at a time.  For me, that had been quite an achievement.

We had just started our travels again, when the Heavens opened.  Within minutes large puddles appeared.  The poor people on bikes huddled by walls.  The wipers on our bus went 'swish, swish,swish!'

It stopped as quickly as it started.  We arrived at the COPE centre.  This was a very emotional visit for me.  Apart from the human tragedy I saw, it also made me question the way events in my lifetime  had been distorted.  I knew about Vietnam but the story of Laos was not reported.  It seems the Americans dropped millions of bombs on Laos.  Was the country in the wrong place or did it not fit in with the American way?  I don't know and I will have to find out.  But I do know that the bombing left a terrible legacy.  As well as those injured during the 70's, adults and children are risking life and limb, literally, to recover debris for illegal scrap metal.  The countryside is littered with bombs and the contents of cluster bombs, called bombies.  The size of a Christmas bauble but very dangerous.  COPE was established to offer rehabilitation and prosthetic limbs for victims. Hanging from the ceiling were examples of home-made limbs.  There was a bitter irony that some  were made from the very bombs that caused the injuries!!  And the land is still littered, making it useless for farming.  Groups of young people are being trained in bomb disposal techniques to try and rid the land of the menace.  COPE is extending its good work to help rehabilitate other needy people too eg people with a club foot or recovering from brain injury.  A worthwhile cause.  I'm glad I saw it firsthand.  Well done to the English lady who started it.

The afternoon was a gentle guidance into the world of Buddhism.  Our guide was a monk for five years, so was able to explain it well.  Through the use of pictures in the temples and statues, he told us about Buddha's life.  There were so many similarities to Christ's life, it makes you think and question your own beliefs.  I should like to know more on Buddhism.  

We were about to leave one temple when our guide noticed a wedding couple.  My first in Laos.  I know you would all like to see them.  Fabulous outfits.

Our day ended with a Laos meal with music and dancing.  We walked home through the night market.  Country folk sold home-made wares next to fashion clothes and bling.  A colourful end to a most thought-provoking day.  Goodnight dear friends.  Stay healthy and happy x

Back Blogging

An early rise at 6am.  We waited in the hotel lounge.  We felt well rested in this extremely clean and welcoming place.

Two young women were also up and about early, catching taxis.  Not sure if they were leaving or starting work.  All I can say is they did not look like office workers or cleaners,  Wink wink, say no more.

All the roads were quiet, especially the new super highway taking us to the brand new airport.  And what a stunning looking airport it was too.  It only took five years to build.  Back in the UK we would still be arguing over the planning.

Scott, our guide, took us to check-in.  For the last few months, I have been boasting to family and friends about my forthcoming business flight.  Well, you know what they say about pride and fall ....we were demoted to economy.  I couldn't understand it.  Dave was wearing his brand new shirt!!  I pointed out the word 'business' and smiled sweetly.  The check-in guy went off in search of 'the director'.  It wasn't long before he returned.  Unfortunately,  the airline had changed their ratings.  The Z rating had been consigned to economy.  It could have been worse.  They could have cancelled the flight!!

The first section of our flight was domestic to a place called Nanning.  That being the case, we didn't have to go through visa leaving procedures or customs.  We waited, as told, at Gate 19.  We watched passengers board planes, carrying some weird and wonderful packages.  I think one had bought an Olympic flame from somewhere.  The rules for hand luggage seemed out of the window.

The airline company name of the day went  to .......Lucky Air !!!! Wouldn't you just want to fly with them?

I looked at the board by our check-in gate.  Our flight had not appeared, yet we were due to board in five minutes.  I raised my concerns to hubby.  He merely thought I was worrying.  I do sometimes, well most of the time actually.  I heard an announcement.  Our flight gate had been changed.  Just when we had hot a seat too!

So, over to number 22.  Plenty of seats here.  The two gentlemen to my left took a great interest in me.  They peered at my boarding card too.  I expect they were hoping to sit near such a charming person.  I just nodded and smiled at them.  They reciprocated with almost toothless grins.  I can pick them.

A young mother walked around with a baby in a red and gold velvet papoose on her back.  The child looked snug and happy.  I wished I had photographed the but it felt intrusive.

Our flight was called and we climbed on board the single deck bus ....., and waited.  The driver revved the engine so much, it sounded like a jet.  Diesel fumes poured in the open door.  Passengers coughed and spluttered politely.  A second bus load came on board.  Now playing sardines, we set off.

The hostesses were immaculately dressed and made up.  The usual safety routine was demonstrated.  As instructed, I read the card.  Glad I did because you have to take your seat cushion if you land on water.  That is your flotation aid.  I would have been looking under my seat for the yellow flotation aid as the plane went down otherwise.  I can never understand why those things have a whistle.  I would be too busy gasping for breath if I was in the water.  I couldn't see a whistle on my cushion.  Puts a whole new meaning on whistling out of your backside.

Clinging on to hubby with one hand, my St Christopher with the other, I went through my ritual prayer at take-off.  It was really foggy so I prayed twice as hard.  No problem.  We were soon soaring high in the sky.  Please note, I put my iPod in airplane mode for the following:-

Breakfast was served.  A chicken and lettuce sandwich.  Our eyes lit up.  We hadn't had a proper sandwich for weeks.  We savoured every mouthful.  I cannot explain just how lovely and crisp it tasted.  

Landing at Nanning, we went to board the bus.  We were not allowed on.  Like naughty children, we were ordered to the second bus.  With the dozen other passengers who were transferring onwards, we were led, like lemmings through the airport.  At passport control I stepped forward with hubby.  None of this couples lark here.  I was sent back behind the line.  He was allowed through. My turn.  The official kept looking at my photo then me.  OK.  I have a different hairdo.  I have aged in the last three weeks. But, it IS me!!  After an age, he stamped twice and waved me on, grinning to his comrade. 

Round two flight.  Same seats.  Almost.  Hubby wanted the window seat.  He is good most of the time, so, just this once, I let him have his own way.  He picked up the magazine and looked at the sports car section.  Chuckling, he pointed out the wording 'sports car can not only trigger man's hormone into burst, but also demonstrate the distinguished aspects apart from the speed'.  I understood the first part.  

Take off and more food.  Even better.  Chicken and rice or beef noodles.  Inside our little boxes, we had a variety of other items.  Some pictures on the sachets looked like mushrooms.  Didn't open those in case it was just sauce and I made a mess.  The peanut brittle was tasty.  Hubby wanted me to try the tablet shaped sweets.  He thought theyight be the female equivalent of Viagra.  If they were, I'm sorry.  One second in my mouth and I had tasted enough.

Time to land and then time stood still.  We filled in our visa application form and joined the very slow moving queue.  Most of the other travellers could not have received prior information regarding visa requirements.  Some had no photos, others no money.  A lady from Greece, who had visited three times before, was having real problems.  Just guess who we were behind.  Yes, Nana Maskouri (how do you spell that singer's name?)

Having acquired our visas for 35 dollars each, we had to pass through immigration control.  The poor Greek lady was still having problems.  We were in a roped off area.  Other officials sat at desks with no customers.  'Hello,' shouted Hubby. 'Can we come over?'

Success.  Our photos taken (who knows why?!!).  We were on our way.  Two forlorn red and cream bags stood waiting by a pillar.  They must have hopped off on their own.  Pleased to see us, we hugged each other.  Hubby could wait no longer and spotted the nearest conveniences.  Relieved, in more ways than one, we found our guide, Yen, was still waiting to meet us.

And so, my body is resting this evening in a four star hotel.  Hubby had been scouring the map to get his bearings.  We are just going to drink a well earned coffee and eat our last shortbread biscuits.   Wherever you are, it's great to be back with you.   Hope you feel the same.

Sights and Lights

I peeked through the curtain windows as everyone was asleep.  Clear air, green fields and distant mountains.  The houses.seemed looked after and not a patch of garden was wasted.  Neat rows of plants with no weeds in sight.  In the fields, strange stooks made from sweet corn stems resembled the corn dolly Christmas Angel I hang on my tree. 

Closer to the towns and cities, high-rise blocks of flats and industries blotted the landscape.  But the sky remained clear.

My fellow travellers woke.  Time for the breakfast cereal.  Yes, I still have a little left.  It was Tunnel Time again so we had to play the 'Where is your Mouth' game.  Hubby was very successful.  I could tell by the click, click slurp noises from his bed.  The noises from my side were more inflammatory, rhyming with hit and sugar.

I have other 'find your body part'games. If I ever write a book, I'll pop them in there.

Today's guide, waiting outside the station was Leo.  He seemed to have a good command of the English language until you asked him a question.  His comprehension level was not too good.  Not only his English comprehension caused problems.  We went for lunch. He ordered, explaining to the owner that.hubby cannot eat too spicy (brings on his gout, you know. He says arthritis, but I say gout.). The driver and guide had left us to sit alone.  Do we smell?? 

When the food arrived, there was enough for four.  So, after a bit of argy bargy arguing, they moved over to join us.  I thought the handless cup held my drink.  I took a bite of the pork rib and my mouth was on fire.  I grabbed the cup and took a large swig.  Leo smiled.  I told him how hot I found the dish.  He explained that I could dip the food in the handless cup to make it less spicy.  Woe is me!!  How daft am I?

After lunch we drove across the city to see many figures of old emperors, prime ministers, generals and their sons.  My head soon reeled with the numerous names and dates.  The figures had quite aggressive and scary faces.  

I felt happier in the tiny Jinli Street where local vendors displayed not only their wares but also their talents. One man blew candy into animal shapes, another painted the inside of tiny glass balls.  A lady cut paper into intricate patterns and another carved heads from clay.  I would have liked more time there.

Returning to our room, we had more time to view some of its funny quirks.  The combined hot and cold tap has not been properly fixed.  It can swivel through 360 degrees as well as wobble from side to side.  As I sat on the toilet, hubby started laughing.  He said that I looked like the Dragon Lady from The Golden Child through the screen that separated us.  As a treat, I rose from the 'throne' and performed my best shadow dance.  It just made him laugh more.  Not quite the effect I was hoping for.

 

As night fell we took to the street.  The dark night, with just a crescent moon, was lit by the bright lights from exclusive restaurants, tea houses, jewellery stores, opera houses and fashion shops.  It was so bright that many cars did not use their lights.  One highlight was two girls performing a tea dance in perfect unison.  Wearing traditional red costumes, they posed and poured the tea from long spouts into tiny cups from a height.  This beautiful dance seemed more poignant as the younger dancer had Down's syndrome.  

The street heaved with people but felt safe and calm.  I tried to get hubby to part with his pocket money and buy me a £30,000 jade carving.  No joy.  This really was a wonderful place to wander.

As we entered Room 309, we could see hubby had some admirers.  They had posted their calling cards under the door.  I hid his phone.  Now I know why the welcome basket includes curious condoms alongside the tea bags.  After all, you have to keep your guests happy!! Or as Leo quipped the next day 'This is what we call Social Services!!'  Well, really.

On Yer Bikes

Xian will always bring back memories of bikes and cyclists.  I was flabbergasted at the number of people, animals and boxes that one bike can carry.  Babies and dogs in baskets.  Young and old, all without helmets.  Some passengers perched side saddle and others clinging on precariously from behind.  Boxes and goods would be piled high.  And how on earth they managed to steer whilst using their mobiles or smoking was anyone's guess.  We were never safe from the pesky things.  They would weave in and out, even on the pavements.

Across the road from our hotel was a huge indoor market.  Take the whole of Bury Market, multiply by ten and stick a lid on.  There it was.  We took the easy way across the road using the pedestrian flyover.  The fumes from traffic mixed with the smog, did nothing for my head cold.

Once inside, we kept to a strategic pattern of moving through the market.  No more getting lost for us.  Every household item you could possibly require was on sale here.  Bright lights and even brighter coloured goods.  It was an Alladdin's Palace,  No one hassled us but once or twice, we had to jump out of the way of the bikes as they delivered their goods.

Back to the hotel to check out and cyclists of a different sort perked me up, I can tell you.  Well, I will tell you.  The whole of the cycling team from the Basque Country (as they liked it to be called) descended on to the sofa where I was filling out a Saga puzzle.  Hastily putting it in my bag and trying to look forty years younger, I recalled my Spanish lessons and said 'Hello'.  Talk about result.  These good looking fit fellows spent two hours indulging me.  Hubby was over by the piano, in a world of his own, recharging his batteries. My electricity was sparking without any sockets!! I asked one of them if he was the best rider.  He told me he was the physiotherapist.  I offered my leg for treatment but he didn't have his oils with him.  Shame.  As for the group leader - Shades of Miguel from Valencia came flooding back.  Rescued from a phone box with my friend Sue.  Ahhhh!!!!!

Oops back to China.  My little group of cyclists had not enjoyed their Chinese breakfast at the hotel.  I asked where they had eaten.  They had been on the second floor.  Meanwhile, hubby and I had been playing at 'Billy No Mates' again.  The waitress, when asked about other guests had told us exactly the same answer as before.  Three hundred were expected tomorrow.  Does tomorrow ever come??

The cyclists arranged for some food.  Not much was available. They invited us to share their meal.  I wouldn't have been able to get the fork in my mouth.  I was still all a tremble.  They reluctantly left me (slight exaggeration there).  I did have my revenge over the hen party though.

Time to leave Xian.  Our guide arrived early.  He wanted me to check his preparation for his next tour.  A few grammar changes and quite a lot of pronunciation.  Why are 's' and 'l' so difficult??

We wended our way to the station, taking final photos.  We said goodbye to our brilliant driver as bicycles prevented close parking to the station.  Big D only took us as far as a barrier.  He said we would have no problems.  He really did not know us. Thankfully a lady from Taiwan took pity on us, explaining the information board, which was all in Chinese.

Our train number kept creeping higher and higher but was still on red (No Go)

A ticket controller came over.  She asked if we were going to Chengdu. When we said 'Yes', she told us our train had just arrived on platform 2.

We passed through the waiting room door and a wave of humanity hit us.  A people tsunami carried us along, bags and baggage bumping every part of me.  I spotted an exit on the left.  A very old lady stood there.  I held out my ticket.  She looked and nodded, pointing towards the exit.  An angel indeed.  With relief we climbed on board, to be joined soon after by a lovely German couple Philip and Patricia - yes, really, another P. Time to stop now.  Peter Pointer is tired.

Terror Terracottas and Dozing Dexter

Big Dexter with the big grin met us outside the station as expected.  A Groundhog Day experience seemed likely  when our smoking driver lounged against a grubby car.  The dusty, humid atmosphere dried my throat.  I asked for the window to be closed.  Big D translated my request.  The driver told him we would have to pull over to close the windows.  What?!  On closer inspection, various emergency lights were flashing, including the red battery indicator.  Pulling over, the driver fiddled with some wires under the dashboard. After a few jerks, the windows closed.  As for air-con, forget it.  The car got hotter and hotter.  Little by little the driver opened his window.  Back to square one.

At the hotel, we asked Big D for a different car for our trip to see the Terracotta Warriors.  At first he did not understand.  He has only been learning English a short time.  When our message got across, he said he would try.

One hour for check-in, breakfast and shower.  We were allocated Room 1703. My birthday!!  Lucky or what.  The room was clean and adequate.  Not quite 4 star.  The cigarette burns in the carpet, the matches and ashtray suggested it was not non-smoking.  In fairness, it did not smell of tobacco.  The bathroom was clean and we had lots of little boxes to explore.  The sort we usually take home but now we had no room.  I did squeeze in a shoe shining cloth which made a grand job of smartening my grubby IPod. Basic but comfy I would have said. A room safe would have been handy.  The ones in the safe room looked a bit the worse for wear, so we kept our valuables with us.

We were the only guests in the dining room.  A set breakfast was placed on a Lazy Susan - a spinning glass circle on the table, not the waitress.  Far too much for us.  We asked where the other guests were.  We were told 300 would be there tomorrow.  

After a quick shower, we raced to the lounge.  Big D was there.  The car was not.  A replacement car and driver were on their way.  While we waited, we helped Big D with his pronunciation and grammar.  He loved it and begged for more.  So, for the rest of the day, we helped each other with our respective languages.

A large, clean air-conditioned car and smiling driver took us to the Terracotta Warriors.  There was a small detour to a factory to see how they are made.  We beat a hasty retreat out of the shop area.

At the Terracotta Warrior site,  they have a neat trick.  You buy a ticket to take you by buggy to the main areas.  The return journey has no buggies.  Why?  Perhaps it is something to do with the rows of small shops,  like the ones at Mablethorpe, selling a myriad of goods.  Kites, fox furs and fast foods.

As for the Warriors.  Yes, it is impressive to see row upon row of the soldiers.  Only one had been found totally intact.  He was the Kneeling Archer (No, Dexter, you don't say the letter K.  It is silent). It did cross my mind that perhaps the whole set was a big hoax, like The Emperor's New Clothes.  Surely not.

The 84 year old who found the first one was busy signing books.  He looked very happy.  No wonder, looking at the queues.  Lucky man to have had his fortune change in such a way.  Must get out the metal detector when we arrive home.  

Lunch was served at the centre's restaurant. Big D told us help ourselves from the dishes on side tables.  What he didn't say was a waitress would bring along six more plates piled with food!! 

Toilet time a necessity before resuming the tour.  And definitely a need for a European style.  Crouching Tiger was not for me today.  Hence quite a lengthy wait as there was only one European style available.

The men waited patiently until I returned and we resumed the tour.  Not as impressive as the first pit, but still interesting.

Big D looked weary when we climbed into the car for our homeward journey.  It wasn't long before his head droopedower and lower.  He was almost kissing the driver's leg.  I hadn't realised how tiring my English lessons could be!  Driver and passengers giggled quietly so as not to disturb him.  He woke a mile before the hotel.  Apologising he explained his mother's birthday party had not ended until midnight.  I thought be might have been hungover but he was allergic to alcohol.  How sad.

Whether it was the air quality or whether hubby had passed on his cold, my throat was killing by early evening.  It was hard explaining the word 'lemon' when your throat hurts and head aches.  Thank goodness for paper, pen, computer and kind concierge.  Off to bed with a hot lemon drink.  Wish I had packed the Lemsips.  Night all.