A brief explanation for those who are not familiar with our method of travel. Carolann and I don't do tour groups; we travel on our own, making our own arrangements by whatever means is available, bus, train, plane or hitchhiking.

This has pros and cons. Yes it takes more time and work. And sometimes we miss a connection or spend a whole morning trying to find a hotel. We even get lost more often than we would like, or is reasonably safe. But on the plus side, we get to experience a side of travel (the good and the bad) that few others our age ever do.

We visit the usual spots and also some just off the beaten path. We're pushing the envelope, but only just a little. At least that's what we think; most of our friends think otherwise.

When we do get lost, we get to see the local culture close up, we see things that others miss, and we meet real locals. Yes sometimes it's the underbelly of society, the side that tourists aren't supposed to see, but often it is a beautiful life-changing experience.

This extended trip to China was prompted by the wedding invitation of two Chinese friends on Sept. 26.

We flew from Toronto directly to Hong Kong in 16 hours and arrived seriously jetlagged. The HK airport is massive. At one point you actually have to board a train to go from the place where you deplane to where the luggage is. We opted to follow the stewardesses, some of whom promptly got lost as well.

Once we cleared Customs, our instructions were to find the Express bus to Huanggang Station. Huanggang doesn't sound anything like it's spelled and our feeble attempts to pronounce it were met with stares. We were supposed to call our friend to let her know when we got on the bus so that her mom could meet us. We found a phone and luckily had the right coinage for the long-distance call to Shanghai because our friends Lynn and Dwight had given us all their leftover Chinese change (some of it ended up being Japanese which caused some problems, but that's another story).

Anyway, we found where the buses were and then the fun began. The buses and ticket vendors are all private companies competing with each other. So we were quickly swarmed by women each trying to place their company's sticker on our shirts and bags. I even found one on my back. When we asked for the bus for Huanggang Station, they all pointed to their bus. But no sooner had one steered us in one direction than another would rip off the competitor's sticker, slap theirs on our shirt and redirect us. We still had no assurance that any of the buses were going to Huanggang Station.

We eventually chose a bus, had our bags tagged (why they ever bother I don't know because nobody ever checks for tags at the other end), and jumped on board, whereupon we learned two things. First, Hong Kong dollars are different than the Chinese RMBs, which we had. And second, nobody speaks English even at this bus terminal in Hong Kong.

But we were able to pay with the RMBs for a small 10% surcharge. We were handed a schedule that showed two stops -- not bad for an express. I'm glad we didn't end up on the milk run. The first stop was HK customs and the second was Chinese customs. Wait a minute, aren't they the same country now? Apparently, HK is a separate economic region and is still physically cut off from mainland China.

It took about an hour to get to the border where Huanggang Station is, but first we stopped at HK customs and made the first "learning" mistake of this trip. Everyone got off the bus, so we did too. Some took their carry-on luggage, some didn't. We always keep our backpacks with us, so we took them and lined up at the "Departure Customs".

It was at this point that I realized we were actually going over a border and wouldn't be coming back the same way. We quickly reassured ourselves that the bus must meet us on the other side since some people had left their stuff on board. But in our tired state of mind, we hadn't noted the number or name of our bus and our stickers weren't much help because we had seen all different colours of stickers on people on our bus.

All we had retained was that it was parked in gate 4 on the HK side. I tried to find some of the people who were on our bus, but they had all disappeared in the crowd. The buses were, however, better organized than we and our bus was waiting in gate 4 on the Chinese side with all the others. Our driver actually recognized us (we were the only North Americans on board) and called us over. Then we foolishly stood by the bus waiting for him to open the door until it dawned on us that the doors on HK buses are on the other side, like in England.

Next we drove over a weird "No Man's Land" with an intimidating, high, barbed-wire fence and a wide watercourse that separates HK from Mainland China. It was like Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin. And suddenly we stopped at Chinese customs and everyone started getting off again. Again there was no announcement, but this time all the luggage came out. We tried to confirm if we were at Huanggang Station or somewhere in between, but nobody understood.

Finally we found someone who spoke a little English and confirmed that we were in Huanggang but had no idea what Station was.

Clearing customs was easy and then we realized our next mistake. Our friend had said her mom would meet us at Huanggang Station -- that's like saying I'll meet you at the CNE on opening day. These things can happen when you haven't slept in days and don't speak the language.

This place was huge. And we were quickly surrounded by touts wanting us to take their bus, taxi or van. They were all over us like a swarm of mosquitos.

We tried to shoo them away by repeating the only Chinese we can say really well: "Xie xie bo yao" (No thank you) and then "Bo dong" (I don't understand) when they started rattling away in Chinese.

But after a few minutes of this with no success, I resorted to international sign language -- no not Italian. I put my hands on an imaginary steering wheel and moved them back and forth like I was driving. Then I swung my arm towards me to indicate that someone was coming to pick us up. They actually understood.

But we still had no idea where to meet our friend's mom. We figured if we stood where the cars were driving by she would eventually see us. Then after one more attempt at pretending I was a steering wheel, one helpful tout pointed at the ground, said something that included the words Hong Kong and then pointed to the other side of many lanes of traffic cut off by a high fence and said Huanggang. We were, it turns out, still on the HK side even though we had gone through customs.

We had to cross over a series of overpasses and stairways to get to "Mainland China", where our friend's mom was presumably waiting amidst a sea of buses, taxis, several parking lots and thousands of cars. We dragged our suitcases, backpacks and extra bag full of presents up the ramps and over the bridges in the 90 degree heat.

Standing on top of one of the bridges where it joined another, we surveyed the chaos of vehicles below us and the futility of this exercise began to sink in. This was going to be impossible. We were lost, exhausted and getting hotter by the minute. Only later did we learn that this was part of Shenzhen city with a population of 6 million, almost half that of Ontario.

We decided to try to find a phone to call Shanghai where Suling lived, hoping our friend could somehow connect with her mom. Then just as Carol started walking back to the HK side while I guarded the bags, I heard someone scream "Calulon". Carol had literally bumped into our friend's mom coming across the other bridge at the exact moment that Carol had crossed over. What a fluke!

Sometimes we wish we had a tour guide with a red flag to follow. Sometimes we're just lucky. We prefer to rely on luck -- well, most of the time.