This week has been intense. It is quite difficult to know where to start. Perhaps the beginning?

Having peeled out of Shanghai on a flight to Wuhan, we arrived in a town previously unregistered on our map. The population a mere 8.9 million.

Tasks that appear to be simple on paper, are not. Travelling in China is tough. Make absolutely no mistake about it. Possibly the hardest place either of us has been. There is no risk to personal safety, nor your belongings to any degree. We can afford to stay in hotels, avoiding grim backpacker establishments and Wi-fi in our room is the norm. It is just a question of being understood.

The examples are endless, but in summary you need to be armed with a pen and paper, have any destination written in Chinese characters, then hope someone will understand it! Arriving at a hotel, moving on to a bus station, or god forbid booking a cruise, are feats in themselves. More of that later.

We discovered that we would have to head to Yichang, 5 hours away, to pick up a cruise on the Yangtze river. "Just book train ticket at station, is no problem" we were told at our hotel. Wrong. The train was full to bursting point. This by the way after walking for two hours to find a travel agent to book a cruise. Once located, they couldn't understand the term '5 Star'. Dormitory rooms of eight people were offered (we think). We declined.

After the confusion at a packed railway station had passed, we walked bewildered into a crowded bus park. A throng of locals clutching boards with what we imagine were city names, pulled us by the arms and led us to a ticket booth. Yichang is the only word we can (now) read in Chinese. We are finding this hard to put into words. Just picture no words written in our alphabet, no one understanding the word 'bus', having no idea what is going on around you and people snorting and spitting constantly. Imagine the resulting headache. The anxiety. The stress and complete frustration at not being understood. Drawings of buses or planes are not understood, hand gestures receive blank faces. It is, in a word, nuts.

Once on the ship, however things calmed. A roomy outside cabin, 5 star service (of sorts), and the company of 60 or so Americans and Canadians, and similar number or flem gurgling locals made an interesting mix.

Having visited the Three Gorges Dam project, 15 years in the making and only 2 years off completion, we sailed upstream over a period of four days. Interesting excursions and friendly company made for a highly enjoyable time.

On the last night we were informed of a force majure. The river levels had dropped to just 3m. We would have to travel by bus for the remaining 300km. Ouch. At this point we discovered that we were the only, repeat only, passengers travelling without a guide.

On arrival into Chonquing, we reaslied how valuable a tour guide would have been! To cut a horribly long story short, we failed to find our pre-booked hotel for four hours. Even when we did, we could not find staff to check us in. Phones went unanswered and the frustration grew. We kid you not when we say upwards of 100 people were involved in trying to locate our acommodation. Swarms of extremely helpful locals tried to assist. The language barrier was imense. We want to make a strong point here however. The Chinese are really very kind. They go out of their way to help. Then they turn on their heels and spit into a bin.

The scene was crazy. Wild. Beyond frustrating. We headed off to the China International Travel Service. The Lonely Planet's description of helpful English speaking staff made great reading. They spoke barely a word. Phill circled the room, arms stretched, making jet engine noises. Sue, speaking slowly and clearly,  described our wish to exit this city by plane immediately. We gave up in the end and after much pavement pounding found an alternative hotel which fell somewhere between a doss house and a brothel.

Phill was sat up reading 'Sex Slaves, The Trafficking of Women in Asia' when the phone rang. It was 23:30. "You wan' Chinese massage?". Needless to say, we checked out early doors next morning, though not before attempting the included breakfast. It was like a soup kitchen of tatty, cheap businessmen, all sucking at noodles. The same businessmen whom no doubt had been 'serviced' the night before.

"Fillet of Fish meal, Sue?" Done deal.

We only spotted one other westerner during our 24 hour stint in this city (pop. 30 million). Emporio Armani and a host of other top name stores, created a very glossy centre to town. This was just a veneer however, as the backstreets created a dire backdrop. Hideous poverty. Really awful. This rubbing shoulders with affluence which would match that of any western city.

The flights out of Chonquing were full, as was the train. So it was bus time again. Another 5 hours soon passed as we arrived into Chengdu. Panda country. Exhausted, tense and not a little tired of it all, we wonder how we are ever going to make someone understand we need our laundry done. How do we know this will be tough? Ha, we've been trying all afternoon.

PaSx