lost in translation

Signs in bizarre English found on my travels have always been a guilty pleasure.  China has provided a rich crop...

Especially for vampires

They will ban anything in China!

Yes - take it out on the wall like normal people!

I gave this tempting dish a miss...

Sign of the times for us oldies - detailed instructions on how to use a dial telephone!

Losing Theme Hotel- perhaps they mean the interior design theme!

Unfortunate brand name for an in-flight neck pillow

In case your phone needs a pee!

...and in case it seems a bit unPC to make fun of other nations' English, here's one from closer to home!

Liberal democracy in Cambodia

Ministry of Magic next door

Yummm

chengdu and du fu

23 October

Another day, we visited the site of the home of Du Fu, China’s most revered poet, whose poems from the 7^th century are still known widely today.  I suppose he holds a similar place to Shakespeare’s in our culture.  He is revered as a defender of the poor, to te extent of giving up his privileged position and going into exile.  His poems make many references to the area were he then lived, and this is thought to have been preserved over the many centuries since, right here in these gardens.  Very recently, archaeological remains of the period have been uncovered on the site, giving the story some credence.  The current buildings are actually 19^th century or later but aim to emulate the sense of his work.  In the centre is a thatched timber framed cottage, which is an idea of what his cottage would have looked like.  (The fact that this is all a reconstruction, and nothing like the 7^th century, is skated over in most of the tourist guides.)   

However ersatz, the very extensive park is definitely a serene haven, with its high wooden halls, covered walkways, flowing water, rocks and mature trees in the best Chinese tradition.  We spent an hour in a tea house sipping our glasses of the clear amber liquid, frequently topped up by a friendly waitress, as Hong taught me how to crack open melon seeds with my teeth for a perfect accompanying snack.  A little traditional music wafted across the lake from somewhere, and fish occasionally broke the surface looking for tidbits.  I’m sure Du Fu would have put it better – but definitely a high point and a calming break to Chengdu’s manic lifestyle.  Here’s an example for late autumn and what we call the hunter’s moon. In translation you miss the careful rhyme scheme, each line seven syllables, and seven characters in Chinese, so that it also looks good in written form.  Hong declaimed it for me, rather gracefully.

Above the tower -- a lone, twice-sized moon.
On the cold river passing night-filled homes,
It scatters restless gold across the waves.
On mats, it shines richer than silken gauze.

Empty peaks, silence: among sparse stars,
Not yet flawed, it drifts. Pine and cinnamon
Spreading in my old garden . . . All light,
All ten thousand miles at once in its light!

chengdu

 21-22 October

On to Chengdu.  This journey would have taken eight hours, 20 years ago.  Now on the high speed train it takes two, and as we leave the station we can see the concrete columns for the new superfast train viaduct that will cut it even further.  And we agonize about HS2!  The line tunnels and spans its way laser-like through the mountainous landscape. 

Chengdu is another megalopolis, but on the flat (where Chongqing is built on the steep slopes of river revetments), with orderly wide tree-lined boulevards and good cycle lanes everywhere.  It’s reckoned to be one of China’s most popular cities, with a mild climate, happy and friendly people, and many parks, rivers and lakes. Still that sooty brown smog though: supposedly more common in autumn.  Also a former capital and one of China’s oldest, though you wouldn’t know it now apart form the few trophy enclaves that have not been overbuilt by soaring glass-clad developments. 

Chengdu is of course home of the panda research station.  Despite dire warnings from our taxi driver that either (a) it would be closed because of visiting foreign dignitaries and/or (b) it would be incredibly busy because of all the visitors to the big trade fair starting tomorrow, we found it easy to enter and not all that busy, at least in the first hours.  The buildings and compounds of the centre are set in a beautiful park, with a lake full of black swans and ornamental carp and stands of huge bamboo plants.  The pandas are kept separately by age group (adult, juvenile, mothers with young) in heavily wooded paddocks, where they lie around lazily consuming their 15kg a day of bamboo leaves and shoots, mostly just lying on their backs and pulling down the leaves in bunches.  If they do lumber around, it seems to be mostly to mark their territory by rubbing their bottoms against the odd rock or tree trunk.  A slothful life compared with their ursine cousins, and no-one seems to know why they switched to veggies at some point in their history.   

We saw quite a number of adults singly or in pairs, living this amiable life.  Then we were shepherded through the nursery, to see five identical teddy bear sized toddlers, with the same markings as the adults.  They could have been toys, but they did shuffle about a bit, obviously destined for the same lazy lifestyle as the adults.  Cue lots of oohs and aahs from the assembled visitors, including your easily swayed author.

chongqing

 19-20 October

Kunming is best passed over, apart from its huge airport that makes T5 look like a tin shed.  I arrived in Chongqing to be warmly greeted by Hong, who is going to be my guide and companion for the next 2 weeks.  Already in Kunming it was clear that his help is going to be necessary.  His city is one of those megalopolises that we have scarcely heard of in the west, but it’s got a population of 13 million already – and growing fast, judging by the vast amounts of construction.  Hong took me around the centre at night.  A very few older buildings (by which I mean mostly mid 20^th century) survive a ruthless rebuilding, with tower blocks, flyovers and skytrains in every direction, all covered in electronic billboards, vertical stacks of brilliant red Chinese calligraphy, and exuberant light displays, and the whole thing bathed in a coal-flavoured mist.  The streets teeming with hawkers, street vendors, gawping tourists from other regions, parties of work colleagues out for a fun night, and groups of old people waltzing in the open air to strains of Chinese pre-revolutionary music.  I felt like I’d woken up on the set for Blade Runner.  Not another European anywhere to be seen: in fact, not since I boarded the plane in Kunming.

Chongqing at night

We walked down to the point where Chongqing’s two great rivers meet, before the epic journey through the three gorges region and on to Shanghai.  All around are estates of 30 and 40 storey apartment buildings, with synchronized animated light shows.  Up on the left is the new opera house, completely swathed in glowing panels; and circulating on the water, a number of restaurant boats like small cruise ships, dressed from stem to stern in electrical hardware.  Someone has attached a few strings of small kites to the promenade railings that reach up towards the full moon, wan in the brownish haze: once so central to the Chinese that their calendar is still based around its phases, now no match for the rioting neon below.

We had a great dinner in a small ‘country-style’ restaurant.  The staff certainly looked the part, and with the serving skills to match, but the food was wonderful and a good intro to this part of China.  Chongqing and Sichuan food is spicy.

party!

17 October

My last night in CM and the Soho bar has decided to throw a birthday party for me – or at least Sak has.  A little premature, but it's any excuse for a party in Thailand. 

What this means is that I pay for a lot of food and a bottle of whisky for the staff to share, and anyone else who happens along.  Mostly regulars, Thai and farang, quite a few of whom I know now.  All good fun and I had a great time.  Sak had obviously spent a lot of time planning and organizing it, getting food from various restaurants, blowing up balloons and even having a happy birthday sign made.  Piece de resistance was an ice cream birthday cake!  

I retired at midnight to the guest house tired, happy, and not a little emotional: and not only because I am leaving northern Thailand after a very successful tour – I will always remember the mountains of Mae Hong Son and with any luck be back for a longer visit soon; but also, as I lay my slightly addled head on the pillow, because I am anticipating with some excitement the next two weeks and the challenge of China.  NB you can probably tell from the last sentence that I’m reading Dickens at the mo.

POSTSCRIPT: No news on the lucky 9s front - and I suspect in this case no news is not good news.

normal service resumed - pai

Now in Hong Kong after my foray into China.  As google and the people's republic don't see eye to eye, gmail has been difficult for the last two weeks; and blogger and flickr completely verboten.  So I haven't been able to post, but I have kept writing, and will upload everything over the next few days. 

sunset at pai

 16 October

After a pleasant morning in Mae Hong Son, we are off to Pai.  Another thousand bends and hills and hairpin bends, this time through limestone karst country.  Pai is much more low key and laid back than I expected –  I had heard it was a backpacker type place, and assumed beer bars and full moon parties, but it’s more sedate.  In fact there are very few westerners in evidence.  We find the Pau Island resort much more easily than last night’s resting place – quite an upscale place with extensive mature gardens. I somehow have booked the honeymoon suite – everything white, with flounced nets around the huge bed and mirrors everywhere.  Luckily there’s a day bed too so we cope.  The villa is set in a little bamboo-fenced compound – very cut off from the outside world. 

More temples to see. There is a wonderfully calm wat with a small wooden pavilion in a lake, fed by pure rainwater from the temple’s roofs.  And on the far side of town up on the hill, there’s the one that’s famous for its sunset views – inevitably a bit overrun by what tourists there are in town, mostly Korean I think – but still a magnificent sight with the whole town spread out below, and the receding mountains to the west.  A scattering of clouds allows for a huge sunset display with rays shooting out like nobody’s business, all behind the great mountain range along the Burmese border.   

And so back to Chiang Mai.  The bends ease, the hills flatten out and we are out over the open plain again.  The advertising signs and the ribbon development starts to appear as we pass through dusty little villages then towns then suddenly we are on the outskirts of the big city again. 

It's been a really enjoyable drive - about 400km altogether, and requiring lots of concentration, but the roads aren't busy, and though washed out or damaged in some sections, mostly easily passable.  I will be back!

lucky nines?

During the drive across to Mae Hong Son, Sak reveals that he had a dream the night before, about the numbers ‘9 9’ and a third number that was about to be revealed to him, but the dream ended.  If he can find this number, and find a lottery ticket that have this combination, and if he prays enough and makes merit in enough temples, he may win the big prize!  As I want to walk round the market (where there are many lottery ticket sellers) and see the temples anyway, this works out well for both of us.  He finds the missing number by seeing it in association with ‘9 9’ in various locations.  He won’t tell me the other number – it might break the luck – but I suspect it’s a third 9.   

Later, sitting in a restaurant, I happen to look up and see written in pencil on one of the beams – maybe a constructor’s mark – three number 9s!  That settles it.  So we visit practically every temple in town and make merit (mostly this means buying flowers and candles and bowing to Buddha images). In one there is a sign that says that anyone can pray for good luck, but only if they are sincere.  He bows to the image that represents Friday, his day of birth, and gets me to do the same to Sunday’s, which is mine, going through a certain ritual with the candles and flowers.  He urges me to think of what good thing I would like to happen to me.  It felt like blowing out the birthday candles as a kid.  Well, I wished that Sak wins the lottery: I’ve been lucky enough.  I would sincerely like him to win, and he believes so sincerely that it seemed the only right thing to do.  For good measure, we also feed the carp in the lake: being good to animals is also a good thing. Then, in the night market, Sak finds the exact lottery ticket number he’s looking for!  Will it all work?  We will have to wait for the draw on Friday to find out!