Suzhou, The Venice of China

Take a thirty minute bullet train west from Sanghai for under 6USD and you will find yourself in a small, historic canal town called Suzhou... The cab ride was short and the driver friendly. Possibly the only personable cabbie in the country. However, when he wanted to drop us off in the middle of a six lane highway bridge, I thought we might be getting screwed. I asked him "are we here?" but he of course could not understand me. It must have been my Philly accent. He started rambling and pointing, first left, then right, then straight ahead, his gestures even more confusing than his dialect. Davida said, "Forget it. We'll find it." We alighted and scurried to the side of the highway where we discovered a stone stairwell leading down to the banks of the canal over which the bridge crossed and were instantaneously teleported to the China of three hundred years ago...

The stone streets were lines with red orb lanterns and quaint shop fronts. The canal was adorned with wooden barges which carried dozens of Chinese tourists along the waterways. Walking the narrow throughway, we heard the sonorous melodies of an oriental orchestra, and before long, came upon the source of the haunting tones. A lofted opera stage sheltered by a pagoda rooftop housed a three piece chamber ensemble opposite a pavilion from which we have since taken to spending the twilight hours.

After a painless check-in at our hotel, fortunately a stone's throw across the canal from that very pavilion, we entered our room and found it a darling first floor sanctuary whose windows opened right onto the sidewalk on the waterway, revealing this exquisite place from the most intimate of vantage points. Passersby gaped at us through our window as though we were the attraction, amused by the white people hanging out of it. Skippers stared as their barely seaworthy vessels chugged by.

Our first order of business was to find lunch. It was cold and rainy, as it seems to be every travel day for us, and it was this that prompted a minor lapse in judgement. Intent on finding a warm place to take refuge, our options slimmed as we passed one open-air restaurant after another, each with nothing but Chinese characters on the menu, until we finally came to a place with pictures and an actual door. But upon entering, we immediately realized that its differences were greater than just these. We managed to find what is probably the only Muslim Pakistani restaurant in town. And they weren't too keen on us, either. We ordered greens, some meat on a stick, and a chicken dish that turned out to be mostly tendon. And not the tasty, well seasoned sheep tendon we enjoyed in Beijing, but a chewy, crunchy affair that had the texture of nostril cartilage. It took 30 minutes for our food to arrive. And for the price we paid, we could have eaten street food from any of the dozens of stalls we passed five times over, in a quarter of the time. Oh well.

That evening we took a walkabout, and as the red lanterns were lit, the charm of Suzhou was further revealed to us. This is the Venice of China.

Today, we hit the streets like Bourdain, on a mission to eat everything strange. We were rewarded with unknown fishes, pork products, dumplings and fruits. Basted, fried, candied, and otherwise prepared, our awe and enthusiasm for it soon became quite a spectacle, and again we somehow felt that we were the attraction as tourists and vendors gathered to watch us eat. It is worth mentioning that we washed our meal down with baijiu, a unique Chinese liquor that tastes like moonshine, costs 1 dollar American, and is consumed exclusively by men over the age of 60. What a sight this white guy is with his thick beard and his baijiu eating fish on a stick in the middle of the sidewalk on a cold Suzhou evening.

Now we are back in our room listening to the catlike voice of a crooning karaoke singer drifting down the canal from a nearby bar. We might just put our names on the list.

Ken and Davida