"When we arrived in Zhengzhou, we headed straight for the China International Travel Service office where a man called Mr. Li had very kindly acquired a ticket for me for that evening's sleeper train to Hangzhou. He was waiting in his office till 7:30 pm so that I could go and collect it. It was really incredibly helpful of him. I'm not sure how many administrative workers you'd find in England willing to spend an extra couple of hours in the office at night just so they could help a random foreign traveler."
I wanted to quote that particular passage because so many people have given Polly Evans's book poor marks for its negativity. Reviewers have complained that she's too sour when it comes to travel conditions in her book on China.
Two things should be noted in fairness to the author, however: First, she most often traveled the way that the common man in China travels; second, the book was written pre-Beijing Olympics. Add in a third, she wasn't often going to the main tourist spots, but instead heading for out-of-the-way destinations, places where her own Britishness could invoke the locals to stare at her and small boys to cry at her sight.
Traveling beyond the Western world (the US, Europe, Australia, Hong Kong, and the like) and beyond the well-worn tourist routes often involves hardship. Real travelers know to look beyond the glossy travel magazines, as much as we like how they feed our fantasies. Travel, like imagination, often involves 90 percent perspiration and 10 percent inspiration. If you don't like those odds, it's best to stick to the Eiffel Tower and the Great Wall, the Sheratons and the McDonald's.
Evans shares a good bit of history of the places she sees. While she can overdo it on the descriptions of how she got there and how she managed to find something to eat with only the most basic of Chinese phrases (and a lot of pointing), she can also laugh at herself and her circumstances. Following her route on the book's enclosed map, it would be hard to imagine coming away with a more unique experience that few Westerners are likely to share.
No, this book isn't perfect. Evans's dry humor may not work for all readers. But she deserves credit for what she was able to do and the honesty with which she was able to share her experiences, even those that did not reflect kindly on her. I came away envious of her journey, even if I am not sure I myself could have endured it. For those interested in off-the-beaten track travel with all its grimy particulars, Fried Eggs with Chopsticks succeeds.