All the tins in China

In my last post I told you all about the tinned sandwich I had picked up in Helsinki back in the summer of 2013 - a very brief visit to the city, as it was in fact just a stop-off on a journey elsewhere. Not, as you might guess, to see the Northern Lights, or somewhere nearby in Scandinavia or the Baltic states, but rather to China, to visit a very dear friend and former flatmate of mine who was teaching English in the city of Xi'an at the time. Given that we've recently moved into the Chinese New Year of the Sheep, this seems like the ideal time to tell you about my trip there. Is it really a year since we welcomed in the Year of the Horse though? Time doesn't half gallop by, does it?

China via Helsinki might seem like an unusual route, and I suppose it was really - but it made some sense given that the best deal flight I could find was with Finnair, Finland's flag carrier and largest airline. I probably wouldn't ever have considered visiting Helsinki otherwise, but I'm glad I did, as it was a lovely place, and it ended up being well worth my while stopping off there for just under 24 hours, as for seemingly no reason whatsoever, I was bumped up to business class for the flight from Helsinki to Xi'an, which had me grinning from ear to ear for much of the eight-hour journey.

Anyway, Xi'an was, as you might expect, a very different tin kettle of fish entirely - dirty, smelly, crowded, and almost a little overwhelming at times in that it was so different to anywhere I had been before in terms of culture and language. Nevertheless, it was an utterly fascinating place to visit, incredibly modern and fast-paced but with an amazing sense of its own history, and seeming to occupy a curious middle ground between westernisation and its own official communism.

But this is a blog about tins, not travel, so let's get back to business. Conversing with my friend via email before my visit, he let on that one of the things he was missing most from home was hummus. As much as I would have liked to take a tub of Tesco's Caramelised Onion Hummus out with me (a particular favourite), there was no way it would have survived the journey - or at least after it had been out of the fridge for the best part of two days, my friend's chances of surviving eating it might have been somewhat diminished.

Another clash of cultures: tinned hummus in China

A trip to an international supermarket near me though had revealed that there are more portable forms of hummus - tinned, of course! I didn't imagine it would be the greatest hummus ever, but felt it had to be given a try, and so into my rucksack it went. In fact, when we tried it quite early on in my visit, it was suprisingly good - I had been expecting little more than over-processed mashed up chickpeas, but in fact there was still a decent slightly chunky texture (which is my preference), a good flavour of tahini, a smack of garlic and a faint hint (I think) of cumin - all things that I would aim for if making my own hummus. I would usually go for the fresh zing of lemon juice over the slight metallic taste that comes from being entombed in a tin for a few months though.

The Terracotta Warriors

Much of my time in Xi'an was spent attempting, and failing miserably, not to stick out like a sore thumb in the crowds, which when you're white and six foot tall is not that easy in China. But even so, I wasn't expecting to get quite so much interest from the locals - with 8 million inhabitants of its own, Xi'an is a reasonably large city by Chinese standards, and with the burial grounds that include the Terracotta Army only a bus ride away away, you'd think tourists would be a fairly common sight. Yet I frequently had locals coming up to me and asking to have their photo taken with me, or practice their English on me, or simply staring, pointing or laughing at me. But then again I do look a bit funny, so maybe they were justified in that.

Hua Shan

The attention did, however, prove useful at times. At one point I took a trip out of the city by bus to Hua Shan, a mountain with trails around its five peaks which attract thousands of Chinese and foreign visitors each year. Getting there in the first place is tricky enough in a country where you don't speak the language and can't read the signposts, let alone navigating your way around the many paths and different routes, and attempting to avoid pitfalls both literal and metaphorical, with many narrow precipices and hawkers and traders trying to sell you things on the way. Fortunately I was 'adopted' by a group of friendly Chinese students who started speaking to me on the bus on the way there, and insisted I join them on their trek up to the top of one of the peaks, which was far more fun than walking up alone, and I have no doubt ensured that I made it up in one piece and without getting horrendously lost.

My foster family for the trek

Pit stop for refreshments/general tourist tat

Although there were frequent opportunities to buy food along the trail, I had been warned it became increasingly more expensive as you went further up the mountain, so had brought various food supplies with me. These included a tin of what I thought, from the picture on the front, was going to be some kind of savoury, beany stew, but in fact was 'congee', a kind of porridge usually made with barley, rice, peanuts or lentils, some kind of beans - and a hefty dose of sugar. So, not quite what I was expecting, but having been walking for a good few hours by the time I opened it, I was ready to eat anything, and sufficiently starving to overlook the fact that it was tooth-achingly sweet. Plus it came with a little plastic cover over the top of the tin, so you if you wanted to you could eat part of it, put the lid on and have the rest later. AND there was a folding spoon inside the cover too - so in fact it was probably the perfect thing to have for a long trek. I've seen similar tins in Chinese supermarkets here - perhaps I'll invest in a few before my next visit up to the Highlands.

The rest of my time back in Xi'an was spent exploring the city, with my friend when he wasn't working, and vaguely wandering around, guidebook in hand, when he was. The food was, by and large, absolutely fantastic, and I ate like royalty while out there for next to no money at all, with the street stalls in the old Muslim quarter of the city being a particular highlight.

Naturally, I also found myself perusing the shelves of a supermarket on more than one occasion - but in fact didn't buy any tins of note to bring home - partly as I could never be entirely sure as to what was in them, and hence whether I would actually be allowed to take them out of China or into the UK - I have no idea what the rules and regulations with regards to taking foods between the countries is. But the supermarkets were fascinating nonetheless, and had all sorts of weird and wonderful things on offer - anyone for a live turtle or toad? Possibly less practical in terms of portability than the hummus, congee, or anything else from a tin, but certainly far fresher...