For almost two weeks now I’ve been watching the amazing athletes at the Olympics. Michael Phelps’ eight golds is an amazing feat. Jamacian sprinter Usain “Lightning” Bolt looks like he’s taking a stroll in the park instead of running some of the fastest times ever. And even though I haven’t seen a minute of their contests, all of the badminton, table tennis and judo competitors are certainly worthy of my respect.
But my question is this: Has watching the Olympics made you want to travel to China?
I’m never happier than when I’m planning my next journey, but I really don’t think I want to go China. There are certainly some things I’d like to see there…the Great Wall, for sure. The Forbidden City definitely. And I’d like to see some of those pointed hills like the ones you see near the end of this commerical that’s been running during the games. I would like to see those sights.
But by and large, the thought of traveling to China just isn’t that appealing. I like having my space around me…being in the middle of a crowd most of the time is not my idea of fun.
Husband has been to China on business several times. His trips are in and around Shanghai and he has not been to Beijing. He travels with a translator who helps him navigate the public transportation, among other things. In China it is not advised to rent a car so he does a lot of traveling around on buses and trains. He can navigate fine in Europe, but in China a native speaker is essential.
He also likes to bring home little food oddities–at least they’re odd to our American palates. Earlier this summer he brought back a package of smoked duck tongues. I couldn’t bring myself to try one and could barely watch him eating them. Here’s a picture of some in a restaurant:
The ones he had were dried and individually wrapped in foil. And each tongue has a little bone in it. I just couldn’t eat it.
So, I’m not big on crowds and I don’t think I’d like most of the food. And there are just too many other places I’d like to see.
You see, I’ve just never trusted cultures that don’t have cheese. Which explains my fondness for the French, of course.
Pass the fromage, s’il vous plait.