Xi'an's incredible Terra Cotta army

In 1976, a farmer innocently digging a well just outside the former Chinese capital of Xi’an unearthed one history's most amazing archaeological finds. The farmer discovered an army of life-size figurines made from clay, buried just three metres below the surface in an area close to the tomb of Qin dynasty emperor Shihuang Ling who died in the 3rd century BC. 

Over 2000 of these gems, dubbed “Terra Cotta Warriors” have been unearthed in three separate plots, along with life size terra cotta horses,  The warriors are arranged in battle formation, with a vanguard of armourless younger soldiers at the front of the battle lines and flankers to the side. Still more have been identified but not yet excavated.

The warriors, which are over 2000 years old, are amazingly crafted. Each was handmade from coils of clay, then kiln-fired and glazed in bright colours. There are a number of different designs – generals, officers, ordinary soldiers and kneeling archers. The level of detail in the warriors is incredible – you can even see individual strands of hair and intricate carvings on their armour.

The warriors are displayed in situ at the excavation site. You visit them in a series of pits, where they still are arranged in battle formation. Unfortunately their bright colours have faded, and the excavation process has been halted until archaeologists devise a way to preserve the delicate clay oxides. Some of the better preserved warriors are presented in glass display cabinets, giving you a close up look of their fascninating detail.

We visited the warriors on a day tour of Xi’an. Our guide, Jackie – his English professor was a big fan of Jackie Chan – was a Xi’an local, and a wealth of information about the discovery of the warriors and also how they had helped spur an enormous tourism boom in the city.

The warriors were a fascinating sight, but they don't need a whole day to peruse. Luckily there were plenty of other things to see in Xi’an, China’s fourth-largest city with a population of 12 million. As the former ancient capital of the middle kingdom, Xi'an has some beautifully preserved architecture from the Tang dynasty. Our day tour also took in a visit to the stately seven-story Big Goose pagoda. It is surrounded by a complex of temples, all built in traditional Tang dynasty style. 

We couldn't sneak a peek inside the giant pagoda itself, but were allowed in a temple in front of it where people were saying prayers and lighting incense before an enormous gold buddha adorned with what is now more menacingly known as the swastika symbol (why Hitler chose to pilfer a symbol of peace and

At the gate of the city walls

enlightenment I will never know). My parents got in trouble for stepping on the threshold on the way out, which is a bit rough as all the doorways in these traditional buildings have giant wooden planks across them that are hard to get over. There was also an incredible room with jade bas-reliefs covering the walls that told the life story of Buddha in several different stages, from his youth, to when he decided to seek enlightenment and his later life. The carvings were amazingly delicate, and used several different shades of jade as well as a myriad of other stones to depict buddha, his followers and his surroundings.

Later, we ended up at one of the entrance gates to the perfectly intact walls which frame Xi'an's downtown district. Unlike sections of the Great Wall, these city walls are in such good shape that it is possible to rent a bike and ride on top of their 13km circumference, or simply stroll along the top, a beautiful way to see the city skyline without being caught up in a traffic snarl. 

Traditional splendour meets relentless progress in Beijing

Spending a few days in China's booming capital Beijing gives you box seats to the amazing transition taking place in the world's mst populous nation, as millions of people each year move from impoverished rural provinces for a taste of modern capitalism. Many of the physical changes to the cityscape occurred in the lead up to the 2008 Olympic Games, but on a human level the metamorphosis continues.

Amazingly, this sprawling metropolis of 19 million people is only China’s third largest city, behind Chongqing and Shanghai. Like most Chinese urban jungles, it is immaculately well planned, arranged around a set of concentric ring roads spiralling out from the centre.

Beijing is spread out, even at its bustling epicentre. The roads, arranged in a neat grid pattern, are very wide and the blocks are enormous. Looking at a map gives you the impression that the city is quite compact, until you realise it can be up to a kilometre between major thoroughfares! There is also a slick modern and efficient subway, although this hasn’t done much to curb the city’s alarmingly choked arteries. It is possible to get stuck in appalling traffic jams at any hour of the day.

Lantern-lined Ghost Street (Guijie)

Most of the city’s tourist attractions are handily clustered in the centre of town around Beijing’s historical heart, the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square. Nestled among the traffic-choked boulevards of the Dongcheng district is a maze of alleyways known as hutongs, which provide a fascinating glimpse into traditional Chinese life. Hutongs are jammed with hole in the wall restaurants, where workers slurp up steaming bowls of noodle soup, small grocery stores stacked with cigarettes, rice wine and vegetables and traditional Chinese courtyard houses hiding behind high brick walls.

Courtyard houses are shared by several families who are often part of the same work unit, which, after the immediate family, is the building block of Chinese social life. Members of work units not only live together, they also holiday together, visiting other parts of China on guided tours, wearing identically coloured hats and following a flag-toting guide.

Many run-down Hutongs are being cleared for developments

Hanging in a hutong and peeking into bicycle-crowded entranceways is the best way to observe ordinary Chinese people go about their business. There is always something happening in the alleys – I walked past three ladies lounging around on a couch outside a house, gossiping away, and several groups of men arguing heatedly over games of Chinese chess.

Houses in many of the city’s hutongs are pretty run-down, and since the construction boom leading up to the Olympics many have been cleared to make way for shiny new developments. Sadly one of Beijing’s last remaining cultural institutions is gradually disappearing.

There is an impossible number of attractions and entertainment options in Beiiing, and like most things in China, everything is done on a grand scale. The Forbidden City, once the heart of imperial China, is no exception. Passing under the Meridian Gate opposite Tiananmen Square, the stately main entrance bearing an enormous portrait of Mao Tse Tung, you are instantly aware of the enormity of the place.

Entrance to Forbidden City

There are another five identical gates to pass through before you reach a dizzying labyrinth clustered with 20 or so palaces, plus other interesting sites housing ancient calligraphy and ceramics collections and other royal treasures. The palaces were predominantly built during the Ming dynasty in the 1600s. Many were destroyed (often repeatedly) by fire and later rebuilt and updated during the later Qing dynasty which ruled until the fuedal system was brought down in 1911. Many buildings had amusingly grandiose names. My favourites were the Hall of Mental Cultivation, The Palace of Gathered Elegance and the Hall of Martial Valor. I also loitered around the Hall of Literary Glory, hoping some to absorb some good vibes.

It seemed the emperors had palaces for all occasions. There was the resting palace, where the emperor would have some downtime before important state visits or war meetings, palaces for the various armies of concubines, and palaces occupied by different emperors at various times throughout history. At the top of the site sits the imperial garden, a tranquil area dotted with dome-shaped pavilions surrounded by cypress trees and rock gardens.

All buildings are of a similar design, with identical roof tiles, colourfully painted beams and upward-sloping eaves adorned with tiny dragon figurines. The network of walls in the city, both inside and out, are all painted red. Aside from the enormity of it all, the most amazing thing about the Forbidden City is how incredibly well-preserved the buildings are, both inside and out. Many of the palaces are still decorated with their original objects – elegant wood-carved furniture, ornaments and beds still made up with mattresses and bolsters.

Beijing’s parks are built on a similarly grand scale, and are another great way to gain an insight into daily life. We visited the Tian Tan, built 600 years ago during the Ming dynasty. The centrepiece is the Temple of Heavenly Peace where people went to pray for bumper harvests. The park, set over more than 100 acres, also contains a tomb and other imperial buildings including a fasting palace, where the emperor would avoid meat, alcohol, women and other vices before a big event.

Smoking men

Curiously, there is an entry fee for the park, and it costs extra to visit the palaces, but we didn’t bother because there was quite enough to entertain us just strolling along the cypress-lined avenues and exploring the various gardens. One area was packed with groups of exuberant cards and chess players, while on benches under the cypress trees people sat, smoked and chatted in groups of twos and threes. There were even small choral groups practicing under the trees surrounding the rose garden. A conductor faced the group, who followed a book of song verses attached to a music stand.

The Chinese seem to make the most of their playtime. Despite the early winter chill, they turn out in droves every morning to practice tai-chi in the park. Others group together for ping-pong tournaments in neighbourhood parks, or play hacky sack with curious bouncing objects shaped like badminton shuttlecocks.

Despite increasing levels of car ownership – which often cost Chinese families more than the value of their homes – bicycles and scooters are the preferred means of getting about. Beijing is an amazingly bike-friendly city. Besides being pancake flat, there are dedicated bicycle lanes on every road. Still, cycling around the city is not without its perils, mainly because bigger vehicles automatically assume right of way, and at every intersection cars turn across bicycle lanes whenever they feel like it.

Cars are allowed to turn right on red lights, and scooters share the bicycle lanes. If that wasn’t enough, cars often sneak in there too, and park right across the lane. There is also the danger of pedestrians stepping out on the street without looking. I saw three traffic accidents – all involving pedestrians – during my time in Beijing.

Sculpture at 798 Art Zone

Being a pedestrian automatically puts you at the bottom of the pile. Even though all of the intersections are marked with green men, they do not make a scrap of difference, as every time you cross a road you are stalked by turning cars, scooters and bicycles, many of which are electric so you can’t hear them coming. Some of the streets are over 10 lanes wide, so crossing them can be quite an experience!

Riding around the city was an exhilarating, if not slightly perilous experience. We rode out to the edgy 798 contemporary art zone, a precinct of galleries, cafes and restaurants in a disused East German factory. The trip took us right out near Beijing airport, somewhere between the fourth and fifth ring roads. There was an amazing variety on exhibition there in the muddle of independent galleries - from Chinese contemporary paintings to kooky sculptures to a Tibetan photo collection to North Korean propaganda art - where we got in trouble with the thought police for taking photos.

Another bloody Aussie in London

It seems like there is never a good time to move to the UK, especially not since the country has been paralysed by stagnant economic growth and rising unemployment since the financial crisis. The usual question we were asked when we told people of our desire to up stumps to London after our big trip to South America was "why?", quickly followed by taunts of "you don't realise how bad things are over there," and "the Australian economy is booming, so why leave?"

Two things: first, Australia is a microcosm, a tiny market that, although it has a healthy economy, doesn't have the breadth of job prospects in journalism and engineering (mine and Adam's respective professions) than the much larger UK, which lets not forget, is on Europe's doorstep. Second, the Australian economy is booming - if you work in the mining sector, an industry which I have absolutely no desire to cover, but which occupies many column inches in the Australian media. And I have no desire to move to Perth, should Adam wish to work for a resources firm.

We touched down at Luton airport (ironic that it is called "London Luton" because it is in the middle of the countryside), our backpacks stuffed with smelly, falling apart clothes and various souvenirs including Amazonian hammocks, Brazilian sarongs, Guatemalan scarves and Oktoberfest beer steins. Fortunately for us, we both have EU citizenship thanks to our Anglo-Irish heritage. Adam is even luckier to have a British passport because he was born in Peterborough before at the age of two his family embarked on a world odyssey, finishing up in Australia when he was 11.

Another thing that has made settling in much easier are the ranks of Adam's relatives dotted around the UK. Our accommodation anxieties were quelled by an offer to stay with a cousin who lives just to the east of Central London. Whitechapel and Spitalfields, former industrial and warehouse precincts, are better known as the former hangout of bloodthirsty serial killer Jack the Ripper. Part of the council borough of Tower Hamlets (being a stone's throw from the Tower or London), are in the process of being refurbished and renewed with slick warehouse conversions and modern apartment blocks popping up in among tired brick blocks of council flats.

East London has a strong history of migration, having been home to successive intakes of new arrivals for hundreds of years. The Huguenots, a band of French and Flemish protestants, made the area their home in the 1700s. London's Jewish community then settled in the 1800s and established textile factories after the sewing machine was invented. Jewish families have since moved westwards as they became more established, but they left behind clues of their existence, including a row of bagel houses.

Bangladeshis are the latest custodians of the area, and as a sign of the times, the former Spitalfields Great Synagogue now operates as the London Great Mosque. It's focal point is Brick Lane, a long narrow alley clustered with curry houses and supermarkets, where the air is heavy with a heady blend of cumin, garam masala and green chili aromas. Gaudy sari and gold jewellery shops line the surrounding streets, and discount clothes merchants run a labyrinth of stalls on nearby Petticoat Lane.

Whitechapel is also home to a large numbers of Pakistani and Somali residents , as well as the more established afro-Caribbean community. This heady mix gives the area a completely different feel to other parts of the inner city, and the large muslim population means that at times I am the only person on the street not wearing a head covering. Many simply wear a hijab along with their usual Western-style clothing, but it seems like more and more women are now dressing more traditionally, and opting for full face and body covering with garments like the burqa.

Our new view

The city's financial district is just a few blocks west, making Brick Lane and the now trendy enclave of Spitalfields a popular drinking and dining destination for hoards of socially conscious bankers and lawyers, many of whom have eschewed establishment areas of North and West London for a pad in the edgy East End. Thanks to an urban renewal project taking place noisily across the road from the flat, a big ugly brick building that used to serve as RBS's data centre has been demolishished, leaving us with a brilliant view that includes London's controversially iconic office tower known as the Gherkin.

Prague road trip

It was a pretty simple equation. Renting a car in Germany works out cheaper than taking a train, you can go as fast as you like on (most sections of) the autobahns, and Prague is just a five-hour hop from Berlin. Solution - road trip!

Caning down the autobahn in our hatchback while being overtaken at 180km/h by enormous Audis and BMWs was exhilirating. But the thrill soon wore off and we discovered it was much more interesting and to cruise the back roads that wound their way through the lush green countryside and through gorgeous little hamlets clustered with immaculately tended gingerbread houses. Fortunately we had a Sat Nav that told us where to go, saving us from getting lost and countless potential arguments!

On the way to Prague we stopped overnight in the town of Gorlitz, which sits on a river that forms part of Germany's eastern border with Poland. From the river bank you can sit in a tranquil courtyard cafe and gaze across at Poland. There is a stark contrast between the beautifully painted, perfectly presented homes of Gorlitz and the run-down grey soviet megastructures in the Polish town of Zgorzelec on the other side.

Landskron, the local Gorlitz brew

Gorlitz is one of the few towns in former East Germany that wasn't heavily bombed in the Second World War. The majority of its beautiful medieval and baroque buildings are intact and wonderfully preserved. It seemed like quite a prosperous town as well, despite only emerging from communism 20 years ago. Several large companies, including Siemens, are based in the surrounding region.

Continuing to Prague, we drove over the border to Poland (I think being Australian you get a thrill out of crossing land borders just for the fun of it), just to see what it was like. The condition of the roads deteriorated immediately, as did the quality of the breakfast and coffee on offer - lukewarm sauerkraut roll and machine-made espresso). I can't really give you an objective report on Poland given that we spent a sum total of a couple of hours there, and then made a beeline for the Czech Republic.

The roads, buildings and countryside all seemed to improve the minute we emerged from the forest separating Poland from northern Czech. Czech farmhouses are all boxy two-storey dwellings, and look remarkably large. We did drive through one unfortunate valley where a big brown haze settled over the area, thanks to a bunch of smog-belching brown coal power stations that are used to power Prague. Life expectancy in this region is well below other parts of the country, and its no surprise that many people have moved away and the remaining residents are plagued with health problems.

Prague's captivating Old Town Square

The first thing that struck me about Prague, other than how similar it looks to Florence, is how medieval it is. So many of its buildings, towers and churches were built in the 1400s or even earlier. The cityscape is lined with ramparts displaying the emblems of family crests, with Prague castle perched on a hill overlooking the river. Prague's oldest bar (or so they claim) is still standing, a dank dimly-lit establishment smelling of straw where you can drink Pilsener out of big ceramic mugs.

It's easy to see why Prague is so often described as an outdoor museum - its historic centre, clustered around Old Town Square, is mesmerising. The buildings are in immaculate condition - their facades beautifully restored and masterfully decorated with intricate period features and lots of gold leaf paint. Many have Russian-style spires on their roof, a gentle reminder that you are in Eastern Europe and not Italy.

Absintherie

Prague has definitely been discovered. Its tourism industry is on steroids, and when we visited in late September it was crowded with big tour groups, but strangely it retains a quirky, old-world charm (although accommodation wasn't that cheap as prices are rapidly rising). It is a hit with middle-aged museum afficionados and obnoxious youths alike - thanks to the arrival of cheap Easy Jet flights it is now a popular stag weekend destination English lads.

Its universal appeal may be because Prague has something for everyone. You can spend your stay gazing at medieval artefacts in Prague Castle, you can have booze-fuelled benders at strip clubs or absinthe bars (the Czech republic being the home of the magic green fairy) or you can simply wander around the city's maze of back alleys and gaze at the magnificent view of the river from one of the many bridges, soaking up the atmosphere.

Stalin shows off his iron fist

As this road trip was a last-minute addition to our stay in Berlin, we only had two days in Prague so we didn't get around to that many sights. As has been the case in other cities, we found the main event - Prague Castle - a little stuffy and a bit of a chore to get through, and enjoyed some of the more kooky sights more. The Museum of Communism was an absolute standout - fascinating, hilarious and downright terrifying all at once. As expected, it had lots of Commie propaganda (including some great anti-US anti-capitalism posters) and lots of info about all the idiotic programs the party ran, including collectivised agriculture, rationing and polluting heavy industry.

More surprising was a collection of relics on display - from military uniforms to pictures of gymnasts and old telephones to my personal favourite, a statue of Stalin with his classic "iron fist" raised. The museum chartered the rise of communism in the post-war period (amazingly the US bailed out Czechoslovakia in WWII but was then quickly turned into an enemy, hence the anti-US propaganda) and gave graphic detail on the hardline regime. Phones were bugged, conversations eavesdropped on, and anyone trying to leave the country was shot on sight.

Czech cuisine is famously hearty, so we weren't exactly gunning for goulash at every meal, but sadly we found the food in Prague a bit hit and miss. It's probably better if you dine in a nice restaurant, although I've heard the quality doesn't vary too much with the price. There are lots of nice-looking neighbourhood joints dotted about the place. The goulash is a lot cheaper than other dishes such as duck, pork knuckle or (Adam's favourite) steak tartare, and the one I had was pretty grisly and served only barely lukewarm. We had more success with the wine - there was only Czech wine at this place, and to our delight it turned out to be a beautifully smooth Pinot Noir - who would have thought?

We managed to strike a fabulous compromise between budget hostel and comfortable guesthouse accommodation with the Czech Inn. A beautifully restored 19th century building with a big downstairs bar, it is technically a hostel but you can rent apartments (which look like they were renovated yesterday) on the top couple of floors. The apartments are self-contained with stainless steel kitchens and a loft-style living space. The only catch is that they have two bedrooms - great for two couples but if it is just the two of you, the living space and bathroom is shared with another couple, which feels a little odd.