Lapping Up Luxury

I decided to splurge and live it up a bit: online booking got me into the Chongqing Hilton for $82. At the train station I gave the address to a taxi driver and he could not understand "Hilton" so he had to ask the dispatcher to figure it out. It so happens that in Chinese, Hilton is 希尔顿 — "Xi Er Dun" — which sounds a bit like Sheraton. My iPod came to the rescue again, and I was surprised that both "Hilton" and "Paris Hilton" were in the dictionary. I showed it to him (the hotel definition, that is) in Chinese characters to confirm.

The room was really luxurious and I made use of all the perks, soaking in the tub and then donning the bathrobe and terry cloth slippers. It was a grey drizzly day, and there isn't much to Chongqing except being the jumping off point of the cruises on the Yangze River Gorge.

I went down to the dock to inquire about the boats and found a helpful travel agent. Basically there are the packed cheap and basic Chinese boats and then the pricier international cruises that offer English tour guides and activities. After spotting the Chinese run ships at the dock, I did not think I would enjoy being in them. Maybe it's the fancy digs I'm staying in for the night that pushed me to the pricier cruise. I don't think I'll be in China again, at least this part anyway, so might as well do it in the most enjoyable way.

Chongqing is a very odd place where the paradox and extremes of China co-exist. It is an extremely hilly city perched in the confluence of the Yangze and Jialing Rivers. Parts of it are very ugly and dirty, but there is a central business area that is as posh as any global city. While smartly dressed people stroll, some of them hire porters to carry their stuff up and down the steep slopes. These men armed with bamboo poles and ropes stand waiting in front of hotels and stores, accosting people with heavy packages and luggage. I heard some of them can carry as much as 200 pounds on their shoulders.

Chongqing is apparently China's and the world's biggest municipality at present with a population of almost 35 million (that's like all of Canada in one city). This relatively unremarkable mega-city, recently carved out from Sichuan province, is spiced up by its favourite dish — Huoguo, or hotpot. I went in search of a place that served it, or rather one that had an easy picture menu displayed so I could just point. I sat down on a table with a burner and ordered a combination of raw vegetables, chicken and thinly sliced lamb for Y28 (about $5) to dip into the spicy oily broth. I certainly got a surprise, as I don't think I've ever had true sichuan pepper before. The effect is a numbing but throbbing sensation to the lips, best described as a combination of being anaesthetized and electrocuted. The copious amounts of this pepper and super hot chillies was more than I could take; I only ate 3/4 of the stuff, mercifully padded with plain rice before I gave up. It was a good thing I picked a quiet corner of the restaurant and had a face towel in my daypack, as my head was just dripping with sweat. I glanced around at the locals and they were chatting away in front of their boiling pots like they were savouring some mild cheese fondue.

I came back to my hotel room to find the bed covers had been turned and the bathrobe and fluffy slippers put out for me, and. The fresh bathmat even had "Goodnight" embossed on it. Ahh, the life! I spent the rest of the rainy evening holed up in my room all cozy, drinking mugs of green tea and snacking on cheap baozi (steamed buns filled with sweet beans or meat) I bought on the street. After days of walking for miles everyday and dealing with crowds, it was nice to just watch some English TV, read and catch up on blog writing for a change.