And the winner of the privilege of hosting two more worthless stingy backpackers is...

JUNE 25: In Kunming, on the road out of the country. We're now undeniably those stupid backpacker types, complete with backpacks. Photos of the long-awaited China-land, Juicebox's cave, Shanghai

Yeah, the Commies have gotten paranoid and put an end to easy visas - that is, put an end to foreigners living in China and doing whatever they liked. So we're heading to Laos, hopefully to return after the Olympics are over.

The "Ho Chi Minh Trail" awaits - the Reds' Vietnam War supply line, and the reason why Laos is constantly referred to as "the most heavily bombed country on earth". That's the plan in my head, boxxy doesn't yet know. I'm still pondering how best to introduce the idea of unexploded bomblets and landmines to her. The most important thing is that we stay well away from the alternative - the "Banana Pancake Trail."

In the weeks before we left, the scourge of the 'xiao-qu', or "Little Area", had been babies. Nay, fucking toddlers. I hate the word. There are about 6 or 7 aged between 1 and 4 in our former "Little Area", whose unrelenting tantrums have got me worried for the future of China. I'm talking daily, daily screaming and yelling that's quite obviously born of bad temper: not only does it sound angry, as opposed to in pain, the fits very often stop as abruptly as they start. The kid simply screams when it doesn't get what it wants, continues screaming until its personal servant delivers, then is silent until next time, which is usually under 30 minutes. Of course, more than once a day the Little Emperor's demands cannot be met, in which case the rage is sustained for anything up to an hour. I'm not kidding. Meet one i photographed through the window (the blurring is artistic, right? kinda dehumanises the inhuman...grrrh)



In China babies have long been revered. Well, male ones at least, and what i've observed is mostly behaviour of male specimens. The common way to refer to babies is as "Bao bao", or "Treasure-treasure". A baby being a treasure, full of good uses, you'd naturally have many of them. Then came the One-Child policy, and with it 'Little Emperor Syndrome', where the efforts - and more importantly, the attentions - of grandparents, parents and often great-grandparents, traditionally shared between up to 20, is now directed towards one child.

Reference is often made to the "generations" of Chinese Communist Party leaders", which share some core similarities, e.g. the Mao-era military-politicians, the "Third generation"s mostly Soviet educations, the "Fifth generation" (currently next in line) being the first born after the Communist victory. It scares me to think what kind of generation the 10th or so will be.

As such, we were rather shattered when we boarded the 37-hour train to Kunming and were immediately greeted with a groaning baby in our cabin. Who left a suspicious liquid on my bunk. Thankfully, the baby was taken away, but this time the opposite generation was to prove my nemesis. I had booked the tickets 2 weeks in advance, mainly in order to secure ground-level bunks, the benefits of which are too numerous to warrant mention, except to say many of them revolve around the curvature or otherwise of my spine. Before we even set off, a lady approached me and very politely, very reasonably requested that her sick - he appeared to be dying - father take my bunk, as he couldn't climb to the ones above. I really couldn't say no, and though i was duly shattered, the probable urine patch i was leaving to him greatly lessened the pain.

I'm sure everyone who goes to China floods the internet with their train photos, so i suppose i'll do the same. The more loyal among you might remember my reference to the environmental disaster zone that northern China is. Well, Shanghai was as far south as we'd gone, and two days ago we gave up our beloved Migrants' Cave and took a train right through the vortex of southern China. It's an incredible ride, revealing all is far from lost in China's environment. The whole way from Shangai through Guizhou is thoroughly dominated by humans. If you're the glass-empty (or anti-human) type, all has been lost for many centuries anyway, but these thousands, literally thousands of kilometres on end of heavily cultivated hinterland are unbelieveably beautiful. The luscious green rice paddies stretch out, perfectly flat like endless carefully manicured lawns, only far more interesting for the irregular patterns created by the embankments between. Every available space is used by humans: the gentler slopes and undulations are terraced, creating even more interesting patterns that are actually contour lines. Yet wherever the slopes get too steep, which is most of the land, the human domination gives way to dense forest:


The housing, too, is surprisingly picturesque, though this is probably influenced by proximity to the railway. Unlike the ubiquitous boxes of the north, the village houses here are tall, almost Dutch-looking, with steeply angled roofs. Just to cap off this ode to the superficial, the people working the fields still wear those classic Asian peasant hats.


On the train two compartments down were a pair of young cops, really nice people, escorting two Burmese "economic migrants" back to the warm, caring Junta. The one i talked to at length said he had no knowledge of Burma's government except that it was a military one. He was very open, however, about China's problems, and was a real delight to talk to compared with most his age or younger (about serious topics, that is). He was particularly interested in the fate of Australia's Aborigines, and my experience of an Australian state-provided education that propounded a dim view of many Australian state actions. As we passed through Mao's hometown, i asked him why young people aren't interested in Mao's calamitous fuckups, why they say Mao was 99.99999% right, rather than the official party line of 70%, and 30% wrong. To which he answered that they were too interested in getting rich. Ironic as it may be, the Chinese state is a lot more critical of itself than the population it rules - thanks in large part to Mao and his ignorance/senility.

But no, the warm and fuzzy idea that the wise leaders, the Great Helmsmen of today, are doing the right thing, it didn't last. The sight of Burmese prisoners in handcuffs on the platform being guided, gently but firmly, back into the arms of their paranoid, negligent, greedy, China-reliant terrorist go vern ment will do that to you. (It should do the same about Thailand, too.)

All you good cunts out there, help FREE BURMA!