Well, I made it.
For the first seven days, at least.
And it's been everything I've expected and nothing I could imagine all in one fried pumpkin dumpling.
The Great Wall was the Great Work-Out, The Summer Palace, in a bizarre way, reminded me of Summer's in Jersey, being out on a boat in the middle of a lake with two friends just taking it all in, the Chinese Opera a cultural experience unlike anything I've ever encountered, the ruins of the Winter Palace, a harsh reminder of Western destruction, the Chinese village, a blatant living-portrait of Communist propaganda, the people lining the streets, patient and quick, graceful and rushed--everything is a mystery to this provincial boy.
Friendships formed under this pressure make me feel fortunate. The human condition in it's unbending strength and unavoidable frailty is front and center.
Today we went to St. Regis Hotel and we're treated like royalty. Scotch, champagne, and a Monte Cristo-- the only way to wrap up the first week of a grand adventure.
Still--I look forward to our adventure, the first, the last, the greatest, the only.
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