Stop the world, I’m…

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

“Your Country Needs You to Recycle” – imagine of nations and governments out aside differences and used one simple campaign to rid the world of excessive waste. Or do those countries have a vested interest in keeping their pockets lined? Can we defeat the private sector and the laws that protect it? Is there good reason to give a shit about these matters? Are we guilty of following the consumeristic and individualistic ways that some want us to go? Ooh… an Apple iPhone just for me! I. Me. My. All mine. Just for me. My precious…

100 companies account for around 71% of global carbon emissions. So, no matter what local and small changes we make, we’re pissing into the wind until some top dog and a top dog country barks loud enough for others to follow. Will it be P.O.T.U.S.A Donald Trump? Not likely, he fired off his science team studying the harmful air quality effects on human health. As of this month Trump has destroyed more than 85 laws and environmental regulations stopping Big Corporations and their Shitty Friends from making a quick buck. Air pollution and emissions are lies. Drilling and extraction are a priority. Toxic substances and safety? No worries! Emit away!

Xylem are a company campaigning and creating solutions to predicted water shortages. They’re global. Water pollution is also global. The band Muse made a track called Unsustainable for a reason, not because it’d a be a jolly laugh. Or was it to gain an endlessly growing fanbase? I can never tell. Let’s solve water is Xylem’s message but how open to external influence can a corporation dedicated to water shortage solving be? I’m sure they are no Skynet and Terminators won’t come from their offices, but you never know if there is a volcanic lair somewhere on a company portfolio these days. Who benefits and how? Part of me prays to the known Gods, and unknown deities that this company is as pure as the water they aim to distribute. We’ll probably all need it.

Infrastructure and planning when it comes to energy production matters greatly. Now to the world’s second most populated country, having heating in winter and power all year matters. China (Coal) accounts for 14% of global emissions (1988-2015) and China is growing. It doesn’t take a Gazprom OAO (3.91%) scientist to work out that being top of the pollution league is sustainable in an unsustainable world. Saudi Arabian Oil Company (Aramco) with their 4.5% could argue that they do supply a huge swathe of the world. Despite restrictions on their overseas business, National Iranian Oil Co manage 2.28% of the world’s gunky carbon output. Evil ExxonMobil Corp (1.98%) make up the top 5. Coal India, in the most populated country on Earth, scrape a 1.87% output, whilst Petroleos Mexicanos (Pemex) manage a 1.87% rate. Russia (Coal) and their 1.86% give us more reason to dislike the word coal. It is a keyword is coal. Royal Dutch Shell PLC (1.67%) and China National Petroleum Corp (CNPC)’s 1.56% move us away from the word coal. So, do these top 10 carbon emitters need a rebrand? Should a government spin doctor get in there quick? Or, do they secretly have people behind the scenes plating trees and working on environmentally friendly energy creation methods? Answers on a recyclable postcard to: YOUR MUM, MOTHER NATURE, OUR EARTH. Almost all of the top 100 companies are oil, coal, gas, or fuel related. A few hide their names under green sounding phrases such as Natural Resources, but, overall there are no recycling forms in there.

“There is no such thing as society.” – former oxygen breathing parasitic enemy of the people, Margaret Thatcher

I can only vote leaders in the U.K., and for now Europe (Brexit permitting), and make my tiny influence that way. Or by backing the cool sounding Extinction Rebellion in their quest to make a difference. I follow them on Facebook and Twitter and by doing so, I feel like I have already made a difference. I even tutted when I read about Donald Trump Vadar mocking a 16 year old girl. Greta Thunberg is a brave kid, full of passion and her epeech at the U.N. was proper human kindness and devotion to a cause. Forget Mel Gibson in Braveheart. Here we had a youngster stepping up to a podoim, or rather sitting down, and delivering an impassioned speech as good as, if not better than anything Sir Winston Churchill could muster. How did the world react? “Is Greta Thunberg Really an Actress Named Estella Renee?”, read one headline. Others belittled her as a fantastist or someone with head problems.

“She seems like a very happy young girl looking forward to a bright and wonderful future. So nice to see!” – Cunt of The Decade, Donald Trump (by twitter, of course)

Non-violent rebellions are underway – and at one in Manchester recently, a lot of attention was given to the petrol generator given to powering the stage equipment. Have you tried getting solar panels to work under Manchester’s pepetual cloud? Ecological justice needs laws and rapid regulations but in a democratic society, that is slow and laborious. The often arduous processes of protracted cmapigning, legislation preparation and strenuous arguments need money. The other side, the oiled and gas rich have money. They have lawyers and they have influence in all the right places. The age of the next mass extinction is with us now – and we will have to battle hard.

This year I have made efforts to reduce my meat intake to 2 meals a week, on average. I’ve carried on the habot of avoiding plastic bottles and as much packaging as possible – although in Dongguan (China) most places chuck things in a bag, despite me having a bag held out waiting and me telling them not to give me a bag. Cutting meat down was difficult but cutting plastic waste is much, much harder! It is everywhere. Pleasingly I am seeing more compostable cups and items out there. I do struggle with not using an air conditioner – and the energy rating seems to be low. Do I believe the packaging advice? Are they entirely eco as per the button labelled eco?

Goverments of the world can change in some places but by and large, we the people, we the masses, we have to be the revolution, we have to be the collective change… but first the trailer of Braveheart 2 on YouTube awaits my attention…

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Blues in Shanghai / Buzz of Yokohama

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

Back in July, I’d flew to Nanjing (南京市) from Shenzhen. The flight to Nanjing was simple enough and having paid for my train ticket to the city centre in cash, I checked in at the hotel early. The ticket machines being a rarity in that it didn’t take WeChat pay – it seemed the whole of that area uses Alipay only. On arriving in the city, I explored the impressive city walls, bumping into Peter from Valvoline there to watch the game in the sponsors’ area. After a gentle exploration I found an Irish bar, Finnegan’s Wake and had a natter to the owner Ian. After a hearty meal I returned to the hotel before having a good night’s sleep.

Nanjing could easily be one of my favourite cities in China. Despite having a population of just over 8.2 million it feels spacious. Trees line the roads and add natural feelings. Xuánwǔ hú (lake/玄武湖) stretches from the main railway station over a circumference of 15 kilometres (9.3 miles) – a strangely round number of 444 hectares. The city was once the capital of China from 1368–1420 then from 1928–1937 and also from 1945-1949. The Second World War and civil war in China have greatly affected this city. The city retains great swathes of culture and the museums throughout the area are well worth a wander.

On matchday Phil, having headed from Beijing, and I met up with many other travelling blues, enjoyed the pre-game event ran by the Nanjing OSC before heading over to the huge 61,443 seater Nanjing Olympic Sports Centre Stadium. On entering we passed market stall after market stall selling City’s new home shirts for around £4 a go (30RMB) and other tatty sporting event essentials (you know binoculars, raincoats and vuvuzelas). How new kit provider Puma and the Premier League allowed so many knock-off shirts to be sold nearby was beyond me?! The quality was near spot on with only a few visible faults on the club crest. Oh, and no sizes over UK medium didn’t help any foreigners to cash in…

On passing a body pat down, metal detectors and three separate ticket checks, we were in the stadium for the first fixture: Wolves versus Newcastle Utd. But, first to the bar. Oh. Lemon tea… and plum juice. Or water. Tepidly warm water. Or tiny little sweet sausages and crisps. No re-admission to the stadium. No drinks permitted at the gate either. Hmmm. Good job we had eaten earlier and drank some good coffee, and a few beers. Wolves dominated their game over Toon, who had just been taken over by Stevey Bruce the Elephant Man. Jota’s brace alongside goals from Gibbs-White and Allan of Toon made it four goals to nowt. A very one-sided affair. Martin Atkinson in the middle had little to do.

Nanjing has parks galore, and square dancing grannies (great for Wayne Rooney) – and people walking plastic bottles. It has character unlike some cities that are more copy and paste than commerical espionage at a car factory [NO NAMES… Land Wind?].

In a stand, east or west, I cannot recall, a large pocket of sky blue shirts filled block after block. Considering it was pre-season and a weekday (in a country where people work long hours and many days) it was quite impressive. Thomas Cook (before they went kaput in September) had made a mess and Etihad Airways had just managed to get City into China with very little time to spare before the game. The press was hounding City for time and events – and sponsorship commitments were hastily rearranged and fan meetings held, but with little information given out. As an expat living in China, I could not source when signing events and open training was being held. Others seemed in the know through media and channels unreadable to an English speaker.

A toothless West Ham display, so typical of pre-season games, started with the Hammers scoring a penalty against the run of play. Noble banged the ball in off the spot, after referee Craig Pawson had pointed to the spot. David Silva made the game level from a great solo volley before Pawson once again pointed to the spot. Up stepped Hamburg-born Lukas Nmecha to give the purple-tinted sky blues the lead. Sterling started a run of goals that would carry on into the season, finishing twice in that game. The atmosphere was subdued, relaxed but generally very nice.

Premier League Asia Trophy matches: Wednesday 17 July, Nanjing Olympic Sports Center
Newcastle 0-4 Wolves / Man City 4-1 West Ham

The day after the game, I checked out of my hotel. The train to Shanghai smoothly glided into the final destination. The last few kilometres gave me a panoramic view that revealed the city of Shanghai was far from small. My exhaustion from a late night’s drinking didn’t help me. Checking into the 24K something-or-other hotel near to the People’s Square was simple enough.

The game in the impressive Pringle-shaped curves of the Hongkou Stadium was policed by the central government’s Public Bureau of Security. Despite there being a notice saying that flags of 1m by 2m were allowed, a rough looking three-chevron official tried to snatch my simple Shenzhen Blues and Manchester City flag. I said no. He backed off. His 30cm height-disadvantage and my quick scrunch and pocketing of the flag did no harm. Piles of snatched flags and scarfs, eve posters lay on a table by the unwelcoming metal gates. The Newcastle supporters showing ‘Ashley Out’ printouts remained untouched. A Leeds flag hung at the halfway line. The atmosphere for the game was generally good despite City losing 3-2 on penalties, following a 0-0 draw. Wolves have always been a good side against City – and on this day deserved to lift the Premier League Asia Trophy. The only problem was the general over-policing, however, you could go outside at half-time for a pint, or varied soft drinks. Hóngkǒu Zúqiúchǎng (虹口足球场) was pretty much sold out – but some mentioned that the 33,060 was not allowed due to a license restriction. Would I attend any of City’s potential future games in China? No. The atmosphere is far from conducive for enjoyment at major sports events. I’m sorry to say football in a communist state is duller than a dull thing on a dull day in the village of Dull as the dull festival is commenced at dull o’clock.

Saturday 20 July, Hongkou Football Stadium, Shanghai
Newcastle 1-0 West Ham / Wolves 0-0 (3-2 pens) Man City

On the Sunday, Stephen and I from Shenzhen Blues joined the Manchester City Official Supporters Club Chinese branches in a meeting with club representatives. Many mentioned their OSC flags had been taken from them. The whole day seemed a little winy and the mood low. Stephen and I, with Greg from Hong Kong Blues spent much time explaining where the OSC money goes. An understanding of City’s fanbase domestically and an education of the meaning of the OSC works both ways.

Duting my time in Shanghai I caught up with my Aberystwyth University friend Kai, from Shanghai. We met over local food, a football’s kick from Puma’s flagship store and talked about old times, the present day and the future. I gave his son a small City gift and off we went. I hope we catch up again soon.


From Shanghai, back down to Shenzhen by flight, and up to Dongguan to do laundry and then outwards to Hong Kong’s Mong Kok area the next day after made for a tiring 24 hours. Watching open training, because Heather at City added me to the list, was relaxing and gave me a closer insight into how City operate on a coaching front. It was impressive.

The next day was game day and we headed to the Hong Kong Stadium despite an atmosphere of worry around the city and island of Hong Kong. Some protests had happened before our arrival and many were expecting more. Following a fantastic pre-game event organised by the Hong Kong Blues we headed into the football ground, famous for the HK Rugby Sevens.

I’d like to thank the tireless Martin Ng for his directions and Coco Kwok at HK Blues who had helped me store my bags before the training session. One thing that I enjoy about HK Blues, is that they are bloody friendly and very down to earth people. Every time I am in Hong Kong, I try to catch a game with them! Greg Knowles runs a tight ship over there, and they remain a credit to the Manchester City OSC.

City won the friendly with a less than friendly scoreline of 6-1. Protests concerning the ongoing political unrest in the area were present before, during and after the final whistle. The most bizarre thing, however, was the handing of flowers and substitution of veteran 37-year-old Kim Dong-jin. He’d played 11 games at Kitchee in 3 seasons, but he was given a huge hero’s applause. If he deserves it, fair play. Everyone loves a grafter and a spirit of the game protagonist. Following the win and a few drinks, it was bedtime and a flight the next day. Watch the YouTube match highlights and listen out for the phrase, “…and Wang is once again beaten again.” Oops.


I enjoyed the flight to Tokyo International Airport. Ray, blue Ray that is, was on the same flight. He’d opted to stay in Tokyo whereas I felt the time limit would give me just enough time to take in Yokohama’s sights. It was a cooler air than Shanghai and Nanjing but the game in Yokohama was toasty! Less humid, but bloomin’ hot! I didn’t envy anyone running in that heat. Yokohama F.-Marinos are a bloody good team. City found the net through from Kevin De Bruyne, Raheem Sterling and Lukas Nmecha (now on loan at Verein für Leibesübungen Wolfsburg e. V. – AKA Die Wölfe).

“It was an incredible test for us, incredibly demanding because of the conditions and the quality of the opponent.” – Pep Guardiola

City won the EuroJapan Cup with a 3-1 win – and shared a great style of play with the home team. Coach Ange Postecoglou has a vast career including spells at his native Australia national team. His Yokohama F. Marinos side currently sit 4 points off top-placed FC Tokyo and could secure an AFC Champions League play-off round place. If City ever visit Japan again, I’ll be booking my flights pronto.

Whilst Yokohama wasn’t cheap, the Minato Miraj 21 district has a great mix of architecture and history. The Nippon Maru ship was a museum boat and the skyline featuring the Yokohama Marine Tower made for a scenic city. Armed with a city map, coins for my subway and train rides I covered a great deal of ground and could even see Mount Fuji from afar – although the outbound flight from Tokyo Narita airport gave me a better view and scale of the beastly conical volcano. The Kirin beer factory and Cup Noodles Museum are located in Yokohama. Go on, have a try… and staying in a pod hotel can make the stay more affordable, as I found. The £11 pints will destroy your wallet.

Yokohama has a good toy museum, a cool model railway museum and the Nissan car centre isn’t a bad venue for a pre-match activity, as City did on the day of the game. The city is easy to navigate with plenty of railway and subway links – and they Nissan Yokohama Stadium is the pinnacle of their 4 city clubs. Holding 72,327 it is easy to see why hosted the 2002 FIFA World Cup final and will host the 2019 Rugby World Cup final. It will also see football at the 2020 Summer Olympics. Just nearby is the outdoor Kagetsu-en Velodrome but sadly this closed in 2010 and I couldn’t gamble there.

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Comedy Prescription

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

I Think, You Stink! written and directed by comedian Nick Helm was surprising for many reasons. Not least the warning about strobe lighting and strong language (swearing) but the acting and singing. The dancing too. Amongst the initial audience participation of the B-movie spoof romp, it became clear we the watchers were in for a treat. The 10th anniversary of Helm’s earlier joyous show, was far from dead. The hypno-vision and giggles made the show in Assembly Roxy fly by. The special effects were underwhelmingly overwhelming. Beasts, beauty and great vocals drove the drive-in show far and wide, concluding with a standing ovation. Catchy melodies delivered by great comedy vocalists and teamwork for a simple stage show. Oluwatayo Adewole gave it a 5-star in his review purely because his writing captures the energy that the acting team throw at the performance. Rob Kemp, Jenny Bede, Katie Pritchard and the stunningly seductive Sooz Kempner all can lead a show wonderfully. This wasn’t just a Nick Helm show. This a was a Premier League of talents working together. If only they could be in Parliament – then the tiresome Brexit and poison chalices being banded about may be sorted by a proper organised outfit.

“Dark and twisted, but strangely sweet in the middle” – Mail on Sunday

A few weeks back I watched a Billy Connolly celebration. At first it seemed like a memorial show and I started to panic, thinking The Big Yin was dead. Luckily the 76-year old comedy star, folk rocker and actor has not left the mortal life. The show was simply a festivity of his works – with the feelings experienced by those watching over the years. Billy & Me was touching and sweet but one moment stood out to me. Narrated by Surrane Jones, one viewer said she had been suffering from depression and the doctor prescribed comedy. By watching The Big Yin, for an hour a day, her condition approved. Having not watched as much comedy during the last few years (accessibility and time issues, are my makeshift excuse), I agree. Comedy is a good prescription for a period of time with monsters lurking at the foot of the bed. Nick Helm’s how did just that trick. The world became a brighter place. On that note look up Danny Wallace’s book on rudeness, I Can’t Believe You Just Said That: The truth about why people are SO rude. On reading that you’ll start to think a bit more.

The importance of reading, comedy and thinking for yourself have been amongst civilisations since the dawn of civilization. Anyway, if it makes you think and smile, without making someone else sad, upset or offended, then why not? Our mental health is important. Go on, find a prescription now.

“Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes. After that who cares? He’s a mile away and you’ve got his shoes!” – Billy Connolly

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

James (and the castles of Scotland)

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste / A’m gled tae meet ye,

During a recent whistlestop tour of Scotland, it was possible to admire many castles. The thing about some cities in Scotland, like Edinburgh – and Stirling, is that they have imposing castles on rocks high above the ground below.  Another such beauty of a castle is Scotland’s longest recorded stronghold, Dumbarton Castle.

For Stirling, James IV, the sequel James V and James VI built significant parts to the early 12th century rudimental castle. James III was born there, James II sheltered there – and James I gave it to his wife and mother of James II. James, the indie band from Manchester, to my knowledge haven’t played there. Sit down. The early Stewarts and Wars of Scottish Independence have significance at this location. The current commander is James Erskine, 14th Earl of Mar – another bloody James. The castle that could easily be called James (after James from Thomas The Tank Engine?) sits on 350 million year old quartz-dolerite. William Wallace, of Braveheart fame, even resided there briefly after the Battle of Stirling Bridge. Today it is mostly a Renaissance palace from around the times of 1490 to 1600, when the Royal Family pretty much moved to London, as real estate prices were reasonable back then. Since then, military digs, a museum featuring the legendary Balaclava Company and education have dominated the castle’s recent years.

Edinburgh Castle towers of Old Town. From Castle Rock, aged 350 million years, the 460’ elevation (140 m), the views from the former volcanic pipe are stunning. The only way into the castle from the east. The other directions have steep falls. Even water struggled to find a way in during the Lang Siege of 1573.

Edinburgh’s connection to a James comes with a siege to free James III of Scotland in 1482. Ten-year-old King James II watched two teenagers get executed in November 1440. James IV built the Great Hall. In fact, Edinburgh castle featured greatly in the great soap opera of Scottish royal history. The castle nowadays reflects a grander tourist feel with the superb Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo taking place in a stadium-parade ground outside the main castle gates.

Dumbarton Castle strikes out from a 334 million year old volcanic basalt plug. Settlements have been noted as far back as Iron Age forts. The 557 steps up are a challenge for today’s visitors and a face of William Wallace’s supposed betrayer is carved: Sir John Menteith of Ruskie and Knapdale.

“Schyre Jhon of Menteith in tha days; Tuk in Glasgow William Walays; And sent hym until Ingland sune, There was he quartayrd and undone.” – Metrical Chronicle, Andrew of Wyntoun (1350-1425), Scottish poet
The castle can be seen looming over the town of Dumbarton and by the River Clyde. The landscape combined with the history makes for a wonderful daydreaming experience on a passing train.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā / Bye for noo

Bryan Pugh Jones

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The name Bryan Pugh-Jones is one that should be known throughout Welsh football. He has long been associated with the old black and green of Aberystwyth Town F.C.

A true Green Legend of Aberystwyth Town F.C. means much to fans and the community of Aberystwyth. They engage those around them in ways that others cannot replicate. Whilst ATFC haven’t been seen as professional, one amateur player and club representative has been nothing but professional in his attitude. Having bled black and green over decades of football, few have had a connection with the Seasiders longer. Bryan wore the captain’s armband for 12 years. He carried on with the reserve team, long after others sought retirement.

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I was told Bryan arrived in Aberystwyth from Penparcau via Bont – and never left Town. Indeed, on meeting him in person, he delivered many witty yarns in ways that I found belly laughter the only way to respond. From those early days as a student to my departure from living in Aberystwyth I found Bryan Pugh-Jones was always a friendly and kind man. He’d answer every question and point me in the right direction.

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A self-confessed tone-deaf player would hum hymns as others sang. Listening to his stories it was hard to imagine this gentle man being a formidable adversary on the football pitch. Those who played against him told me he was strong and direct, yet not dirty. So much respect awarded him the first ever ATFC testimonial. A certain Geoff Hurst featured amongst the opposition.

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For any player to have come up against him, they would have learned much from that experience. In 1974 Bryan Pugh-Jones became ATFC’s first ever player to be awarded a testimonial – the opposition featured Geoff Hurst.

It is fitting that on the day football legend George Best was laid to rest, another legend Bryan Pugh-Jones was honoured for his services to football from the FAW. The 3rd of December 2005 was one of many honours, and on 23/6/16, I read in the Cambrian News, whilst I lived in China, of Bryan Pugh-Jones being honoured by the RNLI. His services to lifesaving were celebrated alongside others in receipt of awards at Aberystwyth’s National Library of Wales. So, the Green Legend joined was made Honorary Life Governor of the RNLI. 57 years of voluntary work for Aberystwyth RNLI marked his varied tasks. In those years he was a crew member, tractor driver, station mechanic, and deputy launching authority.

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I recall one day talking with the late David Hides and Bryan Pugh Jones, stood by the tractor that Bryan had set aside. They both discussed in great length the potential of Aberystwyth Town as a club, the history of the region and the weather. It seemed idyllic and eventually we noticed a few hours had passed, and we were all late for our various arrangements of the day.


From 3/12/2005:

Bryan Pugh Jones was recognised by the FAW in the John Charles Lounge. Players from the FAW amateur XIs, Bont, and ATFC teams that played alongside Bryan were present. Bryan’s one-time ATFC captain Howard Madley made a short speech, followed by team-mate Alan Blair (who told us how much fun the team was then, and that arguments did not happen), and Dr Gethin Jenkins spoke of the bravery and tenacity Bryan added to football. Bryan always played football with a smile on his face. The step-over was apparently invented by Bryan Pugh-Jones under the name of the alley shuffle. Bryan was always referred to as the laughing entertainer within his changing room. Tegwyn Evans handed Bryan a long service award on behalf of the FAW, and thanked him for his continuing services to football.

The then ATFC Chairman, Donald Kane, first joined Aber through the reserve team. Donald’s first training session ended with Mr Kane landing on his rear-end, taken by a steady and experienced Bryan Pugh-Jones. Bryan lifted Donald up and said, “You’re not the first and you won’t be the last.” Donald Kane added that as a groundsman working with hard conditions (as verified by Dr Jan Hides in a letter to Bryan, read by MC Glan Davies), “he has done wonders, and Bryan could not be replaced.” ATFC’s Honorary Life President, Glenda Charles, presented Bryan with a gift from all members of ATFC. The fans of Aberystwyth gave Bryan Pugh-Jones a framed and signed artwork of Liverpool players Ian St. John and Roger Hunt, from an FA Cup final win in 1965.

MC Glan Davies spoke next about the times Bryan played for Cwmderi (The S4C Pobl-y-Cwm team). Bryan was acting-Chaeufer following an accident Glan had thus preventing Glan from driving. In the end, the TV stars rang Glan up (not asking if Glan was available to play) enquiring if Bryan was available for games. One such game was in Waterford, Ireland against a local fire station crew. In the changing rooms afterwards avrey primative mobile phone rang (Glan said it was the size of a small car?) and Bryan went to pick it up. The players listened in, “Yes, yes, carry on,” said Bryan. He repeated himself again, “Yes, yes, carry on.” And for a third time. The players within the changing room queried, “Who were you speaking to?” Bryan replied, “Someone just rang to check if she could spend some money on a new jumper, so I said Yes, yes, carry on. She then asked if she could get a new car, so I told her Yes, yes, carry on. When she asked for jewellery from a local jewellery store I said, Yes, yes, carry on. Whose phone is this?” Bryan Pugh-Jones was not the only one presented with a gift of thanks, Tony Bates handed Her Indoors a bunch of flowers for putting up with Bryan. The night finished with a comedian, Bob Webb from Swansea, a buffett, lots of drinking and being merry in celebration of a great man: Bryan Pugh Jones.


As a former editor of ATFC.org.uk, I want to share this gallery to honour Bryan Pugh Jones. The flags at Park Avenue and the RNLI lifeboat station in Aberystwyth are at half mast.

My sincere condolences (Pob cydymdeimlad) to the family, friends and those who knew Bryan Pugh Jones.

Wherever you are Bryan, yes, yes, carry on.

The bee’s knees

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste / Gled tae meet ye A’m gled tae meet ye,

It’s been dunky’s since a last saw ye…

Loch Awe Dalmally (159)Sometimes, some places really surprise you. Some people are wonderful, and staying in Dalmally Railway Station’s The Posting Room was one such experience. The hosts, as listed on AirBnB were Liz and Graham (Angus too). They’re ace. Graham welcomed us immediately from our train which arrived on the opposite platform. A proffering of tea and coffee, followed by some delicious courgette and tomato soup. The welcoming really was the bee’s knees.

Loch Awe Dalmally (19)Throughout the weekend Liz and Graham offered great destinations and advice about the locality. Following a ramble up to the Duncan Ban Mcintyre monument, the path swooped down to the A819 road caressing the Loch Awe’s bankside. Here a walk to view the beautiful Kilchurn Castle and Loch Awe scenery was essential. Heavy rain and a lift back by a friendly truck driver capped off a good wander. By evening hunger had arrived. Two miles up the road later: One pub meal in Ben Cruachin Inn resulted in rhubarb crumble. I was over the moon. The mains selected on visiting were something similar to the following:

SMOKED HADDOCK KEDGEREE RISOTTO Arborio rice, turmeric, saffron, garlic & boiled egg. £12.95
FILLET OF LOCH FYNE SALMON Saffron beurre blanc, asparagus & new potatoes. £16.95

The food at the Ben Cruachin Inn is hearty and filling. The local Fyne Ales equally tasty and refreshing. After dinner, the feeding of the legendary Scottish midges commenced at Loch Awe railway station, before a short ten minute journey into Dalmally for cups of tea and bed.

Loch Awe Dalmally (164)In the morning Graham delivered us more brews with porridge and some cake. If Mrs Doyle from Father Ted fame has a male Scottish counterpart, then Graham is he. That’s meant with no disrespect whatsoever. I haven’t experienced this nature of hospitality ever. A host who really cares about his guests. His partner Liz was busy with her felt studio, Heartfelt by Liz (located on the platform). Graham could be seen zipping between guest throughout the day and delivering warm pots of tea and coffee at almost every hour. It seemed everyone was invited for a brew, “On your way back, call by and come and have a brew.”

Loch Awe Dalmally (72)They go out of their way for you. Hospitality at its absolute best. I really want to revisit the station. Maybe next time I can try the Ben Cruachin room or the Rambler’s Rest – or ideally The Writer’s Retreat. The Shepherd’s Hut doesn’t look too bad too. All have great West Highland picturesque views, a stone’s throw from lochs, mountains and wildlife like the tawny owls or screeches of buzzards in the daytime. The idyllic village is a little far out from many places but a wonderful location for hiking, cycling and exploring the region. The venison burgers up the road in the Kilchurn Castle car park aren’t too bad an option. Add haggis.

Loch Awe Dalmally (144)Staying in The Posting Room was idyllic. With a great variety of biscuits, porridge, jams and brew options. A rucksack of food provisions was barely needed! The final day of two involved a stroll to St.Conan’s Kirk, a church containing a bone fragment from Robert The Bruce. The architecture is splendid, diverse and varied. The architect Walter Douglas Campbell mixed in Norman, Roman, Celtic and other styles. There are famous ship timbers and it is easy to see why it was added to the Top 10 buildings in Scotland of the last 100 years list. The Royal Incorporation of Architects in Scotland made that list in 2016. The building was built around 1881 and renovated in 1906. Beyond the church there is a great tea room outside and the author Mary Stewart once resided at the nearby House of Letterawe.

Loch Awe Dalmally (49)


Stonehaven and Dunnotar Castle (35)Before visiting Dalmally, the whistlestop tour of Scotland began much further east in Stonehaven. The castle of Dunnotar has featured in Victor Frankenstein (starring James McAvoy and Daniel Radcliffe), Hamlet (with Mel Gibson) and other productions. For me, it was a castle I had seen in a book. Its clifftop location, on a kind of island of rock has long stuck with me. A walk from the charming Stonehaven Harbour, passing the dramatic (and deliberately unfinished) war memorial, leads to Dunnotar Castle. The memorial on Black Hill is imposing and powerful. A line of poem can be found inside the octagonal towers.

Stonehaven and Dunnotar Castle (21)

“One by one death challenged them, they smiled in his grim visage and refused to be dismayed” – Sankey’s Student in Arms

Stonehaven and Dunnotar Castle (66)Staying with another Graham – and Sam, in Aberdeenshire, an introduction to their master Percy and enjoyed wonderful hosts. Their house at the top of a hill gave the legs some good stretching but the location was peaceful and the room more than luxurious. The monk fish and chips from the sustainability champions at The Bay Fish and Chips was the best I have had in years. They were so good, a shitehawk (a gull) dropped a bomb across the back of my navy-blue shirt with precision. It didn’t get a single chip. Back off shitehawks!


Doune Castle (37)

Following a night in Stonehaven, a night in Stirling was next on the agenda. The famous National Wallace Monument was visible from the room at yet another AirBnB place with Iona and her family. After the quickest breakfast ever we headed to Doune Castle – as seen as Winterfell, Castle Anthrax, and series such as Outlander.

Your mother was a hamster and your father smells of elderberries” – Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Stirling Castle (11)Later in the day the National Wallace Monument witnessed a 120kg man struggling up the stairs and then being thankful he had no hair to blow away, once at the summit platform of the tower. Taking in each gallery along the way on the steps down, seemed the backwards way to do it, but damned if I was going to take a break on the 246 steep steps upwards. The Guardian of Scotland and influence of legendary stories since (including Mel Gibson’s Braveheart) featured alongside exhibitions on Robbie Burns (the famous poet) and Robert the Bruce. The monument is dramatic and almost like something from J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings

From Dalmally the road (well railway) led ot Edinburgh… via Glasgow… and a route of other rained upon soggy places.

See ye efter

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā / Bye for noo

Plastic or Fantastic #2 Undisputable Brilliance

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

In my opinion it should be a fact that, in football, and other sports too, all overseas fans are undisputable in their brilliance. The modern game has long drifted away from the traditional working class background of football fans. Women now attend games in their droves – and rightly so. The fanbases of many clubs feature disabled fan clubs and LGTGBTQ+ (I lose track of which letters are used and for who). This is ideal. Football isn’t a man’s game. It isn’t a girl’s game. It is for everyone. Whether disabled, a Martian or from Wales, the sack of air that can be moved around as a team is for all. I love it. It is such a simple game, to watch and to play. You can be Messi or you can be messy.

The benefits are more than just commercial. If 800,000 people a season visit a Premier League game from overseas, that means many will indulge in local cultures, see our towns and our cities and feel our way of life. They will join the clubs and their future identity. To some, they will worry – and others will feel xenophobia but surely 1500 Norwegians a week at Anfield ploughing money into the club isn’t all bad. Visit Britain used Ryan Giggs, when he wasn’t busy tapping his brother’s wife, to promote a “Football is Great” campaign a few years back and the Premier League is one huge advertisement after another, with some cracking games amongst the dull ones, that sell it.

There are negatives. Half and half scarves have grown out of hands. For cup final merchandise, it is a little acceptable. For a friendly game versus a team you’re unlikely to face in a competition, it is fine. In the league, against your rivals, no, sorry, no room for half of your opponent’s name on the scarf… Yokohama F-Marinos versus Manchester City, now there is a good memento. City v Utd on a scarf. No. Never. It is bad enough having them in the matchday programme. Football tourism in huge stadia is possible and can’t be seen to destroy the traditional fanbase. Those fanbases must adapt to survive and prices for tickets need to be local no global. Some fans know more about Football Manager, Fantasy Football than reality…

TV coverage has erupted outwardly, over Scandinavia, Germany, Ireland and east, west and south. The Premier League monster has become a global competition – the true super league for global talent. Asia and Africa are joining the league coverage fronts with consummate ease. As New York watches at breakfast, China watches at supper. Social media platforms and interactive coverage allow for unparalleled levels of game coverage. Long gone are the days of trying to find City at Watford on Setanta, or turning to Teletext for a goal update. The Pink has been replaced by Twitter, Facebook and a dozen other live feeds.

Young fans may be priced out of the game, but from the pocket of overseas fans, come a bunch of middle-class and well-to-do sorts. They visit the clubs shops and they buy as much as, if not more than the local fan. These purchases are akin to a pilgrimage to Mecca City [C’mon City Football Group, buy that club!]. Those keyed up on the latest game e.g. FIFA ’98 or wherever we’re up to now, have had a virtual education. The stats have been drilled in and names memorised. There is a blurred line far unlike seeing Tommy Doyle play for Manchester City’s EDS and then make the first team. These fans learn whoever is on that game, and hero worship tends to sway away from up-and-coming players or names. That is, until they’re exposed – and then the overseas fans are wild. These Harwood-Bellis types are wearing the shirt – and close to the dream of the fan. The two can evolve together. They can share memes and tweets, and all that, in ways older generations never came so close to their boyhood heroes (sexist comment? Yep).

The mass markets are open and with that you’ll get a crowd. Inevitably, plonk enough fans together and eventually you will get a truly fanatical kind. Those who form official supporters’ clubs and actively chase the dream of watching their club and being involved in their own ways. That’s what makes me admire the overseas fans. Anyone who watches a game in bed, on the other side of the planet or gets people together to share their passion and cheer City (or whoever else) on deserves credit. Modern football is expensive – and to trek around the globe seeking a game or two – or attend an overpriced friendly featuring a handful of first team regulars, with no idea of what the game will be like, gets my hat off, and placed in the air. Hats off to you. With your worldly curiosity, cultural awareness and passion, you’re welcome at the Etihad Stadium anytime. We are stronger together. We are Manchester City.

Manchester City’s presence in China, over recent years has created a new pocket. 13 Official Supporters Clubs, up from 3 at the time of their last tour in China in 2017, are spreading the sky blue gospel. City’s website, TV and media has punched highly at their fans, with huge following increases. It engages and it supports, holding an annual meeting with the Chinese OSCs. Like Match of The Day, they engage tradition and add a modern twist of flavour. Each meeting has given a great insight into City’s China strategy and set-up. They’re in it for the long-term. What I like to do, is encourage the newer generation of City fans to watch their local teams, watch some non-league football, see any games at professional level that they can and take from it as much as they can. To understand the game and the passion of fans, sometimes it is best simply to observe with no objective. I think fans of City, on the whole, understand football very well. They follow a local non-league team or they at least ground-hop around local clubs.


“I told the Ministry of Foreign Affairs it was a matter of humanity” – Sugihara Chiune

Sugihara Chiune is sometimes referred to as the Japanese Oscar Schindler. He helped around 5,558 Jewish people escape persecution and probable death in Europe.  It was on this day, many years ago that he led with peace…


 

Next up, I’ll write about the jaunts around Nanjing, Shanghai, Hong Kong and Yokohama flying the sky blue flags… when I am awake more.

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Plastic or Fantastic #1 Jumping Ahead

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

Plastic fans or overseas fantastic fans?

When it first happened, we were a little jealous. No. In fact, we were bitterly jealous. As the likes of Liverpool, Manchester Utd and Arsenal gathered overseas fans, City had no hope in hell of travelling beyond Greater Manchester. Together with other so called big 4 club Chelsea, they often dominated the pathways into European football’s top competition and commercial cash card. Terms likes ‘plastic fans’ or phrases based on the geography of where a fan came from, ‘Kent reds’, ‘Singapore reds’, or ‘Here’s another ferry from Ireland’ could be heard. Ignorant fans labelled the new followers as glory seeking lightweight supporters in a heartbeat. I know, because I used to say it and still do from time to time.

Before the Premier League was formed, history served Man Utd well, they’d won it in ’68 – as the first English club to do so. Liverpool did better beating the rest of the pack in 1977, 1978, 1981, and 1984. Nottingham Forest were a founder club of the Premier League – and have the European Cup in 1979 and 1980. Of the 22 founder clubs that season, only 12 are in the 2019/20 season of the Premier League. Like Nottingham, the other 9 clubs have had a topsy-turvy recent history. Where are Wimbledon?

The Champions League followed the European Cup. For the former, Aston Villa won it in my birth year. However, only Chelsea, Man Utd (twice) and Liverpool (twice) have managed to win it in 25 years of the Premier League. Man Utd received global acclaim on how they rebuilt a club following the Munich air disaster and capitalised on a social liberation and liberalisation in the 1960s. They cashed in on the surrounding pop culture with “Fifth Beatle” George Best and so on. Football fans and even the neutral fan could join in or follow a team beyond their own turf. They wouldn’t be begrudged their second club from time to time. It was the norm.

Real Madrid and Barcelona have appeared in the Champions League since cavemen bashed clubs over dodos. They’re almost ever presents having qualified for seemingly every edition. Barca have managed 15 straight seasons of last-16 knock-out games. Their 16 domestic league titles since 1990 has featured just four finishing standing outside La Liga’s top three. Since 2008-09 they have finished twice, three times. They won the other seasons. Real Madrid last finished 4th in La Liga’s 2003-04 season and also clinched a Champions League Place. In 1996-97 they didn’t join the Champions League –  having qualified in the edition of the season before. The Champions League rebrand of the top European Cup started in 1992, at about the same time as the Premier League in England. The global branding of Spanish football has been clear – and one rarely unbroken for Real and Barca. They bucked the trend in terms of fans following top clubs from Asia. Neither team sported red, like the flags of Singapore, China or Hong Kong’s sponsors Sharp name. But, their following was few and far between until Ronaldo and Messi arrived. Then, they banked on superstars.

In the years leading up to the Premier League, floating on the stock exchange wasn’t a bad move. Man Utd did that. City just floated – with no direction. As branding clung to fashionable stars like Beckham and Giggs, football entered a new era for City too. Financial ruin caused by off the field mismanagement and on the field turmoil. Freefall entered the blue half of Manchester with little sign of abating as one club would march to a historic treble (that people seldom hear about these days). Even City signing Chinese player Sun Jihai in the early 2000s did little to stem the flow of international fanbases looking from the east towards somewhere west of Manchester.

Liverpool have won zero of the 27 Premier League titles on offer yet have fared well in Europe during the Champions League era. They like Man Utd, have been in Europe, to the FIFA World Club Championships and European Super Cups. The International Champions Cup has featured them plenty. Exposure beyond the Pennines, Irish Sea and the Lancashire boundary has been kind to them. Man Utd have been described as a global brand – long before City lifted a Premier League trophy. Overseas tours followed the money as City spewed out close to home European numbers like Hamburg’s HSV and Oldham Atheltic away. Even Stockport County and Sheffield Utd had a crack at China – although West Brom came first, long before the Eastlands was a term.

Manchester City’s first foray into the Champions League came from a third-placed league finish in 2010/11. City have featured 8 times in UEFA’s top competition since reaching the semi-final twice, hardly enough to make a dedicated Wikipedia page on City in the Champions League. Higher league places mean higher Premier League revenue and City gave won half of the Premier League titles on offer since their first on 2011/12. Since the takeover in 2008 they’ve shot from ‘marketable lovable team seeks caring partner’ to ‘dominatrix of the year’. Back to back titles, especially considering the strengthening and determination to dethrone City’s centurion of point getters has justified some clever marketing deals.

City and Utd having a derby in Beijing could have been a big thing. It was a farce and never happened. USA had that first privilege at a later preseason. As thousands of red shirts outside the Bird’s Nest Stadium cried, shouted and shown general anger, pockets and handfuls of City fans skipped around Beijing bars, experiencing the City fan culture. A few days later, similar happiness happened in Shenzhen and the culture of Manchester – and football spewed outwardly. Shenzhen Blues and Hong Kong Blues were soon joined by 11 more groups – recognised as official supporters clubs by Manchester City. The OSC formed in 1949 and now has around 250 clubs globally, with around 20,000 registered members. It provides a direct and sometimes challenging link to Manchester City. It is officially recognised and backed by the club but remains independent. Kevin Parker has been voted as General Secretary for 20 or so years running now. He does wonders for the club in a demanding voluntary role. Alan Potter, Howard Burr, Mike Young, Christine Wardle, Karen McCormack are names that help run this ever-expanding organisation, but I don’t know their exact roles. They get mentions in matchday programmes and online from time to time but maintain quite a modest presence.

The annual membership for Manchester City’s Official Supporters Club goes far. A percentage goes to City in the Community. Another amount is made available for charitable applications by the Official Supporters Club membership. Shenzhen Blues donated around £500 to a children’s charity, A Heart For China. The membership gives a card, often a gift and the chance to apply for tickets by each branch. There are many other benefits and event support is one. One thing that as a supporter travelling from nation to nation, or town to village in the UK, means that knowing where your nearest OSC is, you can say hello. So, if you’re in Addis Ababa or Newton Heath, you’ll not be far from one. When I first moved to Dongguan my closest branch was Hong Kong Blues. I met up with that lovely branch until Shenzhen Blues became mainland China’s first branch. From then, I have met so many mainland fans and expats here on work, or just visiting and that is exactly what an OSC should be for: to bring people together.

The Premier League Asia Trophy featured in Nanjing and Shanghai and we’re not really here… we never thought we’d see this many blue shirts or this level of enthusiasm overseas. To continue this writing, I will explain why fans of English clubs overseas are fantastic – and not just plastic unlike the Leeds fan who shouted, “Our fans are from Leeds, your fans are Chinese” at someone not even born in Asia… in Perth this week. Man Utd’s 4-0 win over their bitter Pennine rivals shouldn’t have come into his thinking. Anyone the video us out there.

To be continued.

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Next stop: Nanjing

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste,

34 years ago, Richard Skinner mentioned, “It’s 12 noon in London, 7am in Philadelphia. And around the world it’s time for Live Aid!” That’s the legendary concert that plays ever so well time and time again. But, whilst Twitter is trending, did the concert have an actual reason for showing? Seems to be of little note in all the flashbacks across the interweb. Whatever the problem was, it must have been fixed.

 

“All we hear is 👏Radio Ga Ga 👏…”


CITY OF SHANGHAI

SHANGHAI PIN BADGE IDEA 1My checklist from 2016, of things I must do in China has been reduced. I ticked off visiting Qingdao, flying a kite, and in five days, Shanghai, a city my grandfather visited will be marked off. I triefd Chinese art, caligraphy and kung fu. All were insults to their heritage. At least I tried once or twice.

Changning, Baoshan and Pudong districts of Shanghai once had Marks & Spencers. The city has a French concession region and the Bund is world famous. So, will I be in China or a European city? I’ve been reading up on things to do, places to see etc. Aside from City’s game versus Newcastle Utd or Wolves, I’ll get cultured in five days when I visit Shanghai.

#1 Shanghai Museum #2 China Art Museum (Line 8) #3 M50 for urban art & Jade Temple (玉佛寺/Line 13, Jiangning Road) #4 Xuhui Riverside Park wander. #5 Jewish Refugees Museum – and the ghetto in Hongkou #6 YuYuan Park #7 Sculpture Park #8 Wusongkou Paotaiwan (Line 3: Shuichen Road) #9 The 1933 Old Millfun #10 Zhujiajiao water village (Pine 17) #11 Huangpu’s Garden Bridge #12 Chuansha park #13 复兴公园 Fùxīng gōngyuán

I’m still trying my best to understand customs and Chinese culture. I’ll mark it as done. It will go on forever. I’m still trying to learn Mandarin (slowly).

The things remaining from that list of 33 now stand at just 5:

1. Visit Kunming and Yunnan.

2. See the Terracotta Warriors.

3. Visit Hangzhou, “Paradise on Earth”

4. Check out Jiuzhaigou.

5. Visit Chengdu.


CITY OF NANJING

NANJING PIN BADGE IDEAFirst up, tomorrow I travel to the 2008 Habitat Scroll of Honor of China city that is Nanjing. I’m looking forwards to seeing the City Wall of Nanjing (南京城墙 Nánjīng chéngqiáng), a wall that heavily influenced the Forbidden City of Beijing. The Jùbăo gate (聚宝门 Jùbăo Mén) looks atmospheric. I may start my wall walk from Zhonghuamen Station. Keeping with the word city, there is Shítóu Chéng [石頭城] or Stone City by Hanzhongmen Station. Maybe I can look up Purple Mountain ( Zĭjīn Shān) because of City’s new purple trim. It has UNESCO status of some kind and many places to view that you wouldn’t see every day (the Imperial Tombs of the Ming and Qing Dynasties: 明孝陵/Míng Xiào Líng). The Ming Palace [明故宫Míng Gùgōng] located by Minggugong Station will be a good place to explore too. Most call it the ‘Forbidden City of Nanjing’. Or, for ceramc value, I can check out the Great Bao’en Temple [大报恩寺].

Nanjing seems to be a city famed for mausoleums and the massacre during China’s bitter war with Japan. The museum of the massacre [Nanjing Massacre Memorial Hall 侵华日军南京大屠杀遇难同胞纪念馆 – Yunjinlu station, line 2] will be an emotionally addition to seeing the Nanjing Museum. Then there is a museum dedicated to Nazi Party member John Heinrich Detlef Rabe who saved sheltered approximately 200,000-450,000 Chinese people from slaughter by the Japanese. Rabe was the Nazi party’s local head, as a Deputy Group Leader in China. On one hand, he saved, on the other hand, he supported the Nazi cause. However, he did something monumental and saved many, many lives. Following his return to Germany, the Gestapo prevented Rabe from reaching Hitler. In his hand letters and documentation. His desire to influence Adolf Hitler and pass a message to the Japanese to cease their activity never was heard.

“It is not until we tour the city that we learn the extent of destruction. We come across corpses every 100 to 200 yards. The bodies of civilians that I examined had bullet holes in their backs.” – Rabe’s diary notes: December 13, 1937.

Soviet NKVD agents for Russia and then the British Army interrogated John Rabe following the war. He had a miserable few years following de-Nazifying. However, The Good German of Nanking (his wartime diary title), received food, aid and cash packages from the grateful people of Nanking. This continued until the Communists took over the city of Nanking. In 2009 a Chinese and a western movie portrayed John Rabe’s wartime experiences.

In 1948, the citizens of Nanking learned of the very dire situation of the Rabe family in occupied Germany and they quickly raised a very large sum of money, equivalent to US$ 2 000 ($ 21,000 in 2019). The city mayor himself went to Germany, via Switzerland where he bought a large amount of food for the Rabe family. From mid-1948 until the communist takeover the people of Nanking also sent a food package each month, for which Rabe in many letters expressed deep gratitude.[18]

The south bank city of Nanjing sits in the Yangtze Basin. It was historically known as Nanking, which I believe was purely to confuse me. China’s Three Furnaces are Wuhan, Chongqing and Nanjing so I won’t be expecting to see any snow. The average July temperature is 28.1°C (82.6°F) and I’ll be using the subway’s Jinlingtong (also known as IC-tong) to escape the heat between places.

On matchday, I’ll have a gander at My Town Bar around 3pm with fellow City fans. I wonder which City Legend will be alongside City mascots Moonchester and Moonbeam. Then it will be over to the Nanjing Olympic Sports Centre Stadium – and I must get a quite unique photo opportunity with the Premier League trophy, FA Cup, Carabao Cup and Community Shield.


After Shanghai, I fly back to Shenzhen, whiz up to Dongguan and then zip over to Hong Kong the next day…

CITY OF HONG KONG

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

East is West (Food, glorious food)

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

 

Our favourite home comfort dishes can be still be found in Chinese restaurants. Just a little…different.

 

Every now and then I fancy a taste of back home. China has a wealth of cuisine. Local, regional and national dishes, sit hand in hand. Steamed, fried and Chinese-style stewing is common throughout the provinces, autonomous regions, municipalities and special administrative regions. Gastronomy is so diverse in China, yet every now and then, I long for a Manchester Tart and a glass of warm Vimto. Neither is readily available or even for that matter, imported.

 

There are plenty of well-stocked western restaurants in Dongguan – and every other city, for that matter, in almost every district. Some like One For The Road cater proper Fish and Chips, Ziggy’s DG does a mean steak burger, or Irene’s Bar throws a wonderful barbecue. For variety, there are options all over the city and suburbs. For some, like myself, sometimes these places involve a trek or a wander out of the way. Or, we’re not always as free to stumble upon these alternatives. What do we do when rice and noodles have little appeal?

 

Pasty Or Patty Anyone?

In the U.K., there is a bakery-chain called Greggs. It has spread from its north-eastern stronghold of Newcastle faster than a dropped sausage and bean melt. There are no such joys here. Or so it seemed. Until I discovered the Kǎobaozi (烤包子), also known as the Uyghur Samsa. This often contains mutton, beef or poultry (and I hear Bactrian camels in some regions). Carrots, onions, tomatoes, peppers and other shrubbery can be packed in too. Sometimes even fruit finds its way inside.

 

For an alternative to the delectable Cornish-recipe pasties found in many western joints (e.g. Alan’s World in Dongguan) delightful bakery products, these Uyghur Samsa know how to deliver. They fit perfectly between the chopsticks and fill a hole. Traditionally, this baked bun concept is cooked in a brick oven. For me, it has never failed to be appetising. A great way to feel satisfyingly full after a hard day’s work.

 

Fancy Sausage And Chips?

Pushing aside innuendo, I hate sweet, tasteless fatty sausages. Give me a meaty number [quit it!] with great flavour. Battered sausages are a common chip shop favourite in Blighty (another way to say Britain). Harbin Red Sausage 哈尔滨红肠 (Harbin hóngcháng) is one of a number of sausages around the Middle Kingdom that is worth chomping on. It is less sweet and much more smoked like Germanic and Russian sausages. It arrived from Lithuanians working at a Russian factory in Harbin and has yet to leave the city.

 

Price per sausage is reasonable with some restaurants selling cold varieties sliced for more. It costs much less for a hot sausage on a stick. If only a bread roll was handy. I also recommend you look up Yizhou blood sausage (宜州血肠) for around 2RMB a try. Think English Black Pudding…

 

Now for the chips, I recommend Dongbei’s Suānlà Tǔdòu Sī (酸辣土豆丝). They are traditional to Northern China. Spuds are versatile, whether mashed, boiled or roasted, but everyone loves the fried chipped variety (in American English, they say French fries, oddly christened by this name in Belgium). This dish translates as ‘sour hot earth bean thread’ dish. Tǔ (earth) dòu (bean) is Chinese for spud. I always thought it was a phonetic sounding version of potato, how wrong was I!?

 

Sometimes the potato dish can be found sporting other names, clad in spring onions,shredded carrots or other extra peppery greeneries. Most are there to flavour the dish and not be eaten. Usually the chillies are dry and extra hard to digest.

 

Improvised Fish and Chips?

Sometimes, just sometimes, the Sōngshǔyú [松鼠鱼] or Squirrel Fish delivers. It lacks the tiny little bones that niggle and hurt the throat. Of the six or seven times, I had eaten this, I experienced little to no bones. As I sat with friends, looking to gnaw on this dish in one restaurant, I was pre-warned, “It will contain many, many small bones.” I backed down. My appetite was on the brim of chockfull. The next night, I set out again for a different restaurant. Lady luck was on my side.

 

The fish looks attractive. It has a texture of appealing nature, with an endearing smell. Often garnished with lime or vegetables, and always accompanied by sweet and sour sauce. Tartare sauce may be absent, but don’t be deterred. The scored blocks of flesh hang out like the branches of a Christmas tree. It is surprisingly easy to eat. It is not just golden brown, but crispy and crunchy. This is a go to fish for introducing visiting friends who seldom give fish a second glance. They always ask for a second helping.

 

This delightful dish may not be Atlantic cod, but the deep-fried strands of white flesh pulled away, encased in a sweet and sour batter. Alongside stacks of shredded potatoes, it made for an enchantingly appealing alternative to fish and chips. I must confess, I have since longed for fish and chips… ending up at Murray’s Irish Pub in Dongguan, again. Always, again. Atlantic Cod takes some beating. I tried. It can punch back. Big buggers! Between the genuine article though, Squirrel Fish certainly delivers for taste and value.

 

Just like Quesadillas?

Firstly, take one bag of grated cheese with you. It is necessary to convert this food from a streamlined automobile to a sleek open-top sports car. Xianbing (馅饼) resemble English muffins (an unsweetened bread). Is it a stuffed pancake? Is it a pie? Is it an encased sandwich? Either way, when roasting hot and spliced open, cheese can be inserted. Some even resemble pasties in shape and size.

 

The crispy case opens to reveal a luscious savoury filling. I have had a few of these in my time. My figure is testament to that statement. The fillings have covered all spectrums of meat fillings, pork, lamb, beef and even one that was entirely onion and mushroom-filled. That’s the last time I eat with vegetarians… Expect to find it on street food stalls, in Dongbei restaurants and in freezer sections of supermarkets.

The Emperor Of Burgers?

I spent a year in China before I discovered Ròujīamó (肉夹馍). Then I immediately read up on them. It could easily be said this dish is the grandfather of sandwiches and modern hamburgers. Without this conception, there would be no McDonald’s or Burger King. Many a food review in the local press would instead need to focus on salad. It’d be a far sadder world indeed. Steak prices could have been far different.

 

Instead, the exotic-sounding Ròujīamó saved the day. It appears in street food locations from Guang Ming Market to places all over the country, and beyond. Some contain spices, roots, clove essences, varieties of meat, potato shredding, and others are all about the meat. If you have the odd slice of cheese in your refrigerator, order one of these sandwiches hot and slap it on. Think of it as an instant and modern form of hedonism. You will thank me later for this suggestion.

 

Chicken Ròujīamó is also great with sweet chilli sauce. For me, it gives it a kind of bread-based fajita feel. Shaanxi’s flatbread, the mó, dates back to Qin Dynasty (221 BC – 206 BC) but the meat was around in the Zhou Dynasty (1045 BC to 256BC). It makes you wonder how they held the meat together. Surely it was not sat in a salad?! Old texts do mention gravy as a side course. I approve.

Where To Try: (Jianggujia) and  秦关面道(Qinguan miandao – a national chain)

 

Late Night Kebab?

Kebabs in the U.K. are often the staple food of those who have drank one too many. The rich oils and meats soak up the booze and fill in fat reserves, albeit too well. Over here in China, Xinjiang and Uygur Kebabs are the Bing to Google. Dipped in salts, peppers, spices, lathered in yoghurt or stuck sweltering with heat on a stick, they are scrumptious. They are not greasy and have no unpleasant smell – and are highly nutritious compared with many other meats. The mutton is often slaughtered that same day. It is skewered and roasted over hot charcoals or firewood. It is cheap too – a skewer of tender chunks is often as little as 3RMB. Xinjiang mutton is often free-range and far healthier than farmed sheep variants. Xinjiang people are often skilled experts at cooking this meat. Serve with Nang – a crispy yellow wheat and cornflour bread.

 

Room For Dessert?

I love a good dessert. Hand me a Manchester Tart and watch it vanish in seconds. Not an ounce of coconut topping will remain or the inkling that a cherry was on top. Bakewell Tart? Devoured in the blink of an eye. Treacle toffee pudding? A vanishing act. Cheesecake? Cheese? Cake? Cheesecake? Oh, go on, it will dematerialise. Voomph! Rhubarb crumble? Ooh, you are naughty…

 

As good as the light Guangdong Coconut Bar or Almond Jelly (A.K.A. Annin Tofu 杏仁豆腐xìngréndòufǔ) is, it doesn’t quite fill my belly. However, a few Chinese desserts have won me over. They are practically western in style. Uyghur region restaurants have a meanBaklava style dessert full of dates, raisins, walnuts, and syrups. It is nutty goodness. Then Churro-like doughnuts can be found in the Yóutiáo (油条). Whilst it means oil strip, it is a fluffy yet crispy snack for dessert. In Guangdong, the Canton-speakers call it yàuhjagwái (油炸鬼, gwái is ghost or devil!). There are stumped variations of the dish, Tánggāo (糖糕) is much shorter and is far sweeter. But for me, the daddy of all desserts in Dongguan, is a go to staple food for comfort. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the humble Egg Custard Tart (蛋挞dàn tǎ). Unlike the English egg custard, set at room to chilled temperatures, the Cantonese brother from another mother (born around the 1920s in Guangzhou) is set in an oven. Since then Hong Kong, Macau and many more lands have taken the offspring away. It can be found in Dim Sum restaurants – and even conventional fast food joints. The love child of east meets west is globally known.

 

Remember, it isn’t decadence to jazz up and add fusion to local dishes. This way home comforts can embrace more conventional forms of grub. There was once a period of time before pork became pulled and ice cream sorbet had been dreamt of. Innovation in food, especially in China, is coming all the time. Maybe your creation will bless a menu one day. Until then, why not invest some time and effort into sampling local dishes and trying to add a flicker of your palate into the recipe…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā


Originally published by Dongguan’s now defunct HubHao magazine. Permission granted. Not for profit.

Robots in disguise.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

For every minute that passes, a football pitch is lost in the Amazon. Tick. Tock. Tick. Well, rather an area of trees that could cover a football pitch. Is that why Brazil are so good at football? Are they chopping and sawing away trees in order to beat Argentina and co? Of course, the environment and conservation in general are taking epic beatings. It isn’t all doom and gloom.

Britain has flowery roads, replacing lost meadows; Sir David Attenborough is reaching the youth of today at music festivals; Sky are aiming to plant 3 billion trees before the year 2050; farmland is being explored as potential new forests; farms diversification for a public benefit; Shanghai is dividing litter and rubbish into four types with view to recycling more (although education is needed); Yangtze rehabilitation schemes are in place; actually, beyond the gloom there are some pretty selfless and amazing projects happening.

#QuicklyDividingRubbishSendsShanghaiCitizensCrazy (#快被垃圾分类逼疯的上海居民)

Yet dead whales are being found with 40kg of plastic in their bellies; Japan is whaling again; the Antarctic ice is falling faster then ever before; life is changing for many, it is getting warmer; poisoned farmlands; farms that need actions now; famine; or the Australian condemnation of threatened species over farmland necessity. Jakarta’s residents will sue their government due to bad air pollution. Surely, knowing a little how taxes work, they will realise that they will sue themselves. And, didn’t they cause the air pollution too? #SetorFotoPolusi – oops.

Stable ice may be shrinking fast globally. Israel may be ready to start a war with Iran. China may be ignoring sanctions and buying a few fighter jets from Russia. Radioactive magma may erupt from the Yellowstone national park in USA. The Ring of Fire may trigger a huge earthquake and the Phillipines is on high alert.

Conservation and envioronmental protection needs more. The world needs to pull together. Many great projects need government and world body backing. That’s the hard part. Some governments are petrol-backed and busy building walls, or destroying cultures using cultural genocide…


 

Meanwhile in China, many characters with their flyers have collared me this week. It is normal. Most cannot speak English as they thrust their gym advertisement leaflet into my chubby hands. This week, an exception, a man with clear English and knowledge about the U.K., “London is a big city” he shouted. He slammed his body in front of my pathway. It impeded me crossing at the green for pedestrian dancing man. The red man appeared. More solid. Less inviting. Cars quickly prevented me dashing over the wall. “You could move into an investment opportunity tomorrow,” he smiled through words that barely left his immobile jaw. His eyes beamed expecting an instant commitment to his probably well-tested sales pitch. He caught my apprehension and carried on, “You can move in tomorrow.” He then delivered many words in English, too fast for me to understand. I interrupted him, and said, “I’ll take two.” His face lit up. He seemed over the moon, and then a thought triggered across his eyes manifesting in one word, “Really?” So, here I stated, “No, thank you. I need to go across the road and have a coffee. Goodbye. Enjoy your day.” Did he lose face? Only to me – his pack of colleagues didn’t understand. He asked for this. The green man flashed after 90 seconds and off I went. Straight to the sanctuary of Starbucks. Well, it was Independence Day.


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This weekend I went to Shenzhen (44.5RMB train ticket each way), jumped on the subway (7RMB) and went to watch football at the Xixiang Stadium. Shēnzhèn Péngchéng (深圳鹏城) faced Sìchuān Jiǔniú (四川九牛), City Football Group’s Chinese partnership club. On the day, it appears, UBTECH of Shenzhen have changed the club’s name to Sichuan UBTECH. City’s partnership club had no away tickets available. They had to be ordered in advance, so I went to the home end. On passing through a metal detector security gate, I was handed a ticket for free. Not bad. The stadium was built around a running track, with only one stand in the east (I believe). The southern end displayed the China flag. The north faced onto a hill. The park around the stadium was entirely devoted to sports (basketball, racket sports and swimming) easy to see. A huge netting cast over the western end of the park. Presumably a golf driving range housed the emitting clinks of balls on clubs. There could have been pterodactyls there.

With the sun strong, and the temperature around 32°C, the game kicked off. Sporting a Puma kit in white, the Sichuan team soon turned the shirt translucent with sweat. A water break after 22 minutes gave the visiting team a kind of nudist look. The bench dressed in all-black gave stark contrast. All looked soaked with sweat, as was in the unwelcoming concrete stand. The 3,000 faded seat stadium could have been called the Bird’s Nest, due to all the dried crap on the floor from the birds’ nests overhead. I was trying to figure out if the team had changed name and abandoned their traditional yellow kit for this game, or forever. No-one that I spoke with had a clue. The board displayed the name Sichuan UBTECH in Chinese. The new away shirt was all white with a sky blue sponsor.

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Half-time refreshments involved water, or water. The only option was free and served from a hand-pump over a 20L water bottle. In the heat the water was certainly needed. With this I talked with a fan called Luke who was very familiar with Manchester City goalkeeper history. Hart was mentioned, Ederson too, and which was best, which was a Given, according to him. The fans mulled around, smoked a few cigarettes and talked. The teams reemerged and out came the orchestrated beats of a drum and megaphone induced Olé, Olé, Olés – from bullfighting to south China. I sat back and reflected on seeing a goal scored by the Shenzhen team, where the striker went through the defender… and then the net itself gave him a lovely Spider-Man promotion feel.

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Before the game there had been red scarfs held up in the home end, to no tune and certainly no hymns like “You’ll never walk alone.” They did have some songs and chants but I couldn’t follow most. Apart from when they were 1-0 up, they’d sing “Èr bǐ líng” [二比零] which means 2 against 0. That is a weird thing to say. Ttally unlike “C’mon City” or “We want seven!” The away end had a fair bit of noise, with the rat-a-tat of inflatable cheering sticks being quite visible. I love going to a football game, and I’ll happily watch the likes of Rhayader Town, Hyde Utd or in this case Sichuan UBTECH. My friend Chris Howells, a super photographer back in Aberystwyth enjoys the passion of the players and the crowd atmosphere. I’ve learnt from him to spend some time watching the people in the stands. It is a wonderful and quite relaxing experience. As summer swallows swooped over the field during yet another waterbreak, I thought to myself, a regular thought that I have, I need to watch more football from the stands.

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The Chinese Football Association Division Two League (Simplified Chinese: 中国足球协会乙级联赛) is the third tier of domestic football. It is split into a northern and a southern group. The top 4 clubs from each segment play off for promotion to the Chinese Football Association Division One League. Bottom of the league means play-offs or automatic relegation to the confusingly named 2019中国足球协会会员协会冠军联赛 which translates as the Chinese Champions League. These two teams reflected mid and upper table, with the Sichuan club bidding for promotion at the first chance following their takeover.

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Their new signing, number 32 came on in the 32nd minute and Yang Jun Jie seemed like a kind of Jamie Pollock player. The team were 1-0 down – after 26 minutes, and playing calm football, against the opposition and the late-afternoon heat. They soon went 2-0 down before a spirited second half, which sadly for the visitors didn’t result in an equaliser. An official report can be found here. Of the 600 fans in the stadium 200 had entered the away end. 2000km away games, in the third tier demand a bit of respect.

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再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

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School reports.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste,

So, last Friday was the last of the days with 2F. They are now on holiday. After sharing some post-exam lemon teas, they floated away on the wind – or school busses and more regular forms of motion. Here’s a little review of the 26 students that make my day delightful… sometimes. I’ve used some of the text for their school reports.


Bright-eyed Aaron needs to improve his focus. His enthusiasm is at times wonderful. At other times he is a little bit of a daydreamer. Aaron is extremely polite and has a great character. He is shaping up to be a well-rounded student. Just a little more effort please, Aaron! You need to be yourself, you can be no one else.

Able
Active
Responsible
Observant
Neighbourly / awake / reliable / unhampered

Smiley Alice is patient, often mature in her responses and thinks hard before delivering great English. Her pronunciation is improving. She is creative and greatly respected by her peers. To improve, Alice just needs to carry on. As you were!

Adaptive
Laudable
Inclusive
Curious
Effective / civilised / clever / methodical

Bubbly Allen is dedicated to speaking. His spoken ability is confident and he grabs every opportunity to talk in English. Allen clearly likes to lead teams. With just a little more control he will be an outstanding student. Allen, Allen, Allen… slow down and work together! I think you’re the same as me. We see things that they’ll never see.

Accountable
Leading
Liked
Easy to talk to
No dummy / fearless / outspoken / confident

Smart Angela is imaginative. Miss Rabbit or Lucy are stage names and the world is her stage. She is smart as can be. At times she can be distracted and needs focus, but I suspect that unchallenged, Angela seeks something to switch her mind on. Let’s keep finding ways to unlock that big brain of yours, Angela! All you dreams are made…

Able
Natural
Gleaming
Extraordinary
Laid-back
Advanced / highly-intelligent / quick on the draw

Brainy Billy is capable of much more. His attitude in class can be quite relaxed and he understands English greatly. Billy just needs a kick up the bottom at times. With gentle persuasion our Billy can be everyone’s Billy. He is a great team player. Billy, please keep trying hard! Your class loves you. Give yourself a dream. Live it!

Bold
Interested
Leisurely
Leading
Young-at-heart / observant / reliable / unhampered

Careful Candy is well-respected. The jolly smiles and soft-spoken sentences that Candy delivers are welcomed by all. Candy’s ever so patient and curious outlook are clearly the great shaping by her family. What a star you are Candy! You’ll go far by being who you are! Trust your classmates. Believe in one another.

Confident
Alert
Neat
Dependable
Youthful / wide-awake / zestful / quaint

Diligent Dongyee has jumped ahead in these recent months. She has gone from being hardworking to using her voice louder. Dongyee can climb, she can talk about nature, she can discuss things confidently and she understands much. Stay curious Dongyee and show everyone your ability! YOU CAN DO IT!

Dainty
Outstanding
Never-failing
Great
Yare*
Easy to talk to
Empathetic / agile*

Delightful Doris can be wonderful. Impatient Doris can be challenging. The two sides of Doris are now becoming less frequent. Delightful Doris is learning patience and working harder. She approaches with questions and seems relaxed with making mistakes. She learns from these small errors. Rome wasn’t built in a day, Doris. Some day you’ll find a brighter day!

Daring
Outspoken
Radiant
Independent
Stimulated / warm-hearted / fearless / witty

Excited Evan is fast becoming a walking thesaurus. Students who love language can do anything. With more focus, Evan can excel. Evan, how do you fancy showing off your spoken English a little more? C’mon Evan! You’re free to be whatever you choose.

Excellent
Vigilant
Awesome
Nimble-witted / understandable / observant / reliable / unhampered

Bold Henry used to be rude and noisy, without reason. He has changed greatly. Henry shows solid teamwork, is much more patient and has developed a sense if humour for both adults and children to enjoy. Stay positive, Henry! These last few months have been brilliant! You can have it all but how much do you want it?

Humorous
Eager
Nimble
Resourceful
Young-at-heart
helpful / agile / confident

Polite Jimmy is at times witty, creative and kind. At other times he challenges me to think of new positive adjectives. He is adaptable and considerate. You’re going to make it happen, Jimmy! Take the time to make some sense of what you want to say. We’ll be hearing you more, Jimmy!

Jazzy
Incorrupt
Measured
Most excellent
Yare* / agile* / serious / happy

Vibrant Kim is a pleasure to have in our class. Class 2F loves Kim. Her fizzing and sparkling attitude is a testament to great parenting. There isn’t a more lively or animated student in our class. Take the time to make some sense of what you want to say, Kim. You can have it all. Stay cheerful.

Keen
Interested
Mindful / adaptable / courteous / frank / rational / reliable

Improving Kitty is on a relentless run of progress. This year has seen Kitty rocket. Her little voice is fading away. A new bold Kitty is emerging. Kitty, keep going! Live your life for the stars that shine!

Kind
Inspiring
Talented
Triumphant
Yare* / agile* / exemplary / friendly

Skilled Kristy is a pleasure for our classroom. She can be witty, clever and determined. Demonstrating her growing knowledge and ability, Kristy is rising fast. Step outside, the summertime’s in bloom.

Keen
Rapid
Initiative
Sparkling
Talented
Yern* / eager* / integrated

Talented Lewson will not let the brains he has go to his head. A more-grounded student there is not. Whether it is demonstrating magic, showing his reading skills or singing with a smile, Lewson is modest. He works well with others and is fast learning to control his emotions. Lewson, you can go far.

Level-headed
Easy to approach
Wide-awake
Sweet natured
On hand
Noteworthy / popular / methodical

Cheerful Leon, I am sure you’ve heard it all before. You need to focus. Now is the time to see Leon pay attention more and more. We know that you can do it. You’re improving and showing us signs. Do me a favour, work harder and play harder. To play in a castle, you need to build the walls and towers. Only then can you enjoy the green grasses in the castle square.

Leading
Eager
On target
Now / helpful / agile / confident / bustling

Mighty Marcus stands tall. There are many things that I’d like to say to you, but I don’t know how. So, let’s keep it simple. A lion runs fastest when it is hungry. Show us your hunger to learn and you will stand far taller. Stay calm, stay positive.

Mighty
Active
Radiant
Caring
Unafraid
Stimulated / warm-hearted / fearless

Curious Marline probably has a scientist trapped inside her mind. All your dreams are made, when you focus from time to time. This semester has seen less day-dreaming, and more curiosity. Keep finding your way into the classroom and teamwork. You are making big progress, Marline! Please stop bringing ants into our classroom!

Magnetic
Artistic
Relaxed
Laid-back
Individual
Neighbourly
Enjoyable / quaint

Pleasant Natalie may need a little time to wake up. Once her arms are stretched out and her mind is awake, Natalie is wonderful. A veritable little bucket of knowledge!  Stay true, Natalie, we need your mind working harder and harder…

Nimble
Adaptive
Thorough
All systems go
Laudable
Inclusive
Effective / civilised

Quiet Roselle is not always quiet. Roselle, when you’re happy and you’re feeling fine, then you’ll know it’s the right time to talk. You are raising your hand more and joining in teamwork without hesitation. This is a wonderful and huge improvement. Your reading voice can be heard. At last. More of the same, please!

Regal
Objective
Settled
Earnest
Lionhearted
Lovable
Eager / perfect

Energetic Sabrina is oddly shy at times. Her capable mind and thoughtful manners don’t sit with her somewhat shy nature. Build something. Build a better place. You can do anything, Sabrina! Is Siri still helping with your maths?

Surprising
Adaptable
Big-hearted
Rational
Informative
Neat
Ace / courteous

Silent Sharon has gone. All your life you will try to make a better day. Now, with your voice louder and your ability, you’re very much ready to step in front of an audience. We believe in you. Do you believe in you, Sharon? Go and make some noise!

Self-disciplined
Hard-working
Adaptable
Responsible
Objective
Nobody’s fool / quaint / considerate

Friendly Soffy is working harder. You’ve been lost. You’ve been found. I am happy to see that your quiet days have gone. You’re a very confident girl. Keep working hard. You’ll find lights to lead you there. They’ll be blinding, You can do anything but it takes some hard work. Go on, Soffy!

Smiley
Orderly
Fluent
Freethinking
Youthful / quaint / considerate / adaptable

Tremendous is a big word, Tony. It is similar to great, wonderful and fantastic. Get on the rollercoaster. The fair is in town today. You can take any ride for your future, Tony. I should just write, “Mr John, Mr John, Mr John…” Few students will have the chances that you can make. Go ahead, make a bright tomorrow.

True
Original
Nobody’s fool
Youthful / warm-hearted / fearless / outspoken / energetic

Talented Tyler. There’s lots and lots for us to see. There’s lots and lots for us to do. Stay curious and keep reading as much as you do. Don’t fear any books. You have an eye for art, let’s see your mind’s eye. Show it all. Keep talking. You’re a credit to your parents. Keep teaching us too! Keep talking about spiders too.

Tough
Yare
Leisurely
Omnipresent
Ready / eager / easy-going / true

Steady now Victoire. Keep this pace up. You’re learning fast and improving in your behaviour. Keep your emotions under control and you’ll go far. Tonight, you can be a rock and roll star. You’ve got to take your time. You’ve got to say what you say. Don’t let anybody get in your way but be respectful and fair. Here’s to a wonderful term at school, Victoire. V for victory!

Volcanic
Initiative
Cordial
Teachable
Observant
Inventive
Reliable
Effervescent


That’s that. Done. The final reports of the year. A few Oasis lyrics slotted in. I was listening to Bugzy Malone at Glastonbury then Johnny Marr, so I can’t explain why I chose the Gallagher brothers. In August, the students will return. In September, I will return to…

St Lorraine Anglo-Chinese School/Kindergarten is in Changping, Dongguan. It is owned by a Hong Kong parent group. They have branches throughout China, notably in Guangzhou, Shenzhen and Dongguan. The main primary school was founded in 1999. It is a full-time Chinese-English-language school. The education aim is to provide “quality international and pluralistic education for children in different countries.” The school provides Cambridge International Primary and Junior High School Curriculum (Cambridge International Primary and Lower Secondary Programmes). Students can apply for Cambridge Examination (certificate awarded by the University of Cambridge Examination Authority) and this assists with progression to the Cambridge IGCSE or Cambridge International O Levels Local or equivilents. Many students attend from the mainland of China, Hong Kong and Chinese Taipei.

There are 8 classes for the first grade of primary school (approximately 30 students per class). There are 2 classes in the first year of junior high school. Around 240 students join each academic year to create the new grade one classes. Some kindergarten students face one-on-one interviews or interviews. In fact across China placement of written tests and English assessments are common for international school entry.

The school is located at: Bauhinia Garden of Changping Town Changhuang Highway, Dongguan City, Guangdong Province.

The school has a website here and here, with my own mugshot being found here and there. Like all education establishments in China it is regulated by the education authority for China, Dongguan city and the province of Guangdong.

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

The £80 season ticket.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

 

“Mr John, what’s your favourite season?”, Billy asked. His tiny frame jiggled around with excitement as he happily danced the question from his chirpy mouth. He looked in anticipation of my answer. In his eyes, I think I sensed he wanted me to answer winter. He could see that I was sweating from the 35°C heat. I have been quite vocal about my dislike of summer and heat since around March when the mercury hit 30°C for the first time this year.

To his surprise, I could see it in his eyes, I did not reply spring, summer nor autumn. The expected word of winter did not disembark my mouth. “Billy, I like the football season best.”

The response was quite international, “Huh?!” One simple sound of confusion with calculators flashing in his young eyes. And smoke billowing from his ears. His thought processes however surprised me. He understood, “You like the start and end of football games in the year but not no games.” Spot on. Grab your A-stars now and go directly to university. How perceptive of you Billy.

Now, flash forwards a day to older-than-eight-year-olds. During a conversation, I was asked which season I like best. I gave the same reply. Nothing. Not a single question or notaion of understanding. The boy in grade 8/junior school 2 was flummoxed. Uterrly mystified and totally foxed. So, rather than let him avoid the subject, I asked if he understood. He replied, “of course.” Very confident. So, I said, “please explain.” I didn’t expect much more information to come. The body language of the boy shown he had been thrown, possibly flabbergasted and bewildered. There was a rabbit in the headlights. He opened his mouth, “In winter it snows, so there is no football. In summer, it is too hot, so there is no football. In spring, it is too wet, so there is no football. In autumn it is windy a dry, so this is when the football season is.” I liked his answer, it had a kind of mathematican’s logic to it. I explained the traditional football seasons of Europe run from August to May. There are variations of course. I said summer football is a huge outlier and probably because the weather is too hot, the fields (pitches) too firm. His reply was, “Well, why is the World Cup in summer?” I said it probably boils down to availability and less interruption to less leagues. I said the winter World Cup of 2022 in Qatar will be an outlier.

My years have never been measured by lunar calendars, Gregorian dates, academic planners or such. No, I opted for cards handed out with the Manchester Evening News’s The Pink years ago, and other wonderful football season date lists.  That first date tunnels utter anticipation until the close season becomes pre-season. Pre-season dates are foreplay to the full activity of the football season proper. Waiting for the football season is a time in itself. Here shirts are released, players exchanged, cold, bought and loaned in or out. Words of war are spoke and expectations set, high or low. The battle is far from underway. The Community Shield is looked at as a friendly, unless you’re in and then it is a trophy, unless you lose. There are contradictions in the making from supporters everywhere. Prices of season tickets, games, and all the accessories of the devout football fan are bickered over. “I won’t buy that” becomes an impulse buy. Quarells placed on pause since May (or June) slide to on. Fantasy football teams are prepped. Bookies collect their bets and forms.

TV subscriptions and schedules are juggled around bills and holiday plans. The ripple of every change is mirrored by the frantic actions of a football fan cancelling a wedding in Benidorm in favour of a weekend wedding at Bolton’s Travelodge. Well, Bolton host your team that weekend. Aberystwyth Town’s last season kit is folded away, and you’re pestering Steve Moore at the clubshop on a daily basis. You’re pinging off text message after twitter message after Whatsapp group query, “When is the new Aber Town top out?” You know that by the time your £80 season ticket is printed, you’ll have the famous black and green on your chest but can’t be sure you’ll be wearing it before Gresford Athletic or Llanidloes Town visit. You’ll dig out your oldest kit and call it retro those days. When is the Nathaniel MG Cup Round Two draw? You overlook the first batch of round dates. It matters not to you.

This pre-season I will travel further than before for City’s four preparation games. Taking in the Premier League Trophy in Nanjing and Shanghai,  a game at Hong Kong Stadium versus Kitchee SC and then the EuroJapan Cup game in Yokohama against F. Marinos. Taking in a trip to Japan excites me. Time to do some planning.

Former City Manager Manuel Pellegrini returns to China having coached Hebei Fortune. Former sky blue hero, Pablo Zabaleta could face City. I’ve paid 288RMB ticket for each game on mainland China. Not a tenner in the sterling world, but not too expensive considering the tickets can equate to the below:

£71/£122 via ManCity.com. Newcastle Utd or Wolves v Manchester City. Fri, 19 Jul 00:00. Shanghai’s Hongkou Stadium.

£43/£65. West Ham United v Manchester City. Tue, 16 Jul 00:00.Nanjing Olympic Sports Centre.

I’m told my ticket in Yokohama was for a similar price to the 288RMB, although I’ve seen some weird four-figure numbers banded about too. This all makes Aberystwyth Town’s £80 season ticket look good value.

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Delete social media? Bye to glaciers?

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

 

The trouble with the internet is us. Us. Them and us. Me. Click of a finger, bubble butts and exposed cultures. One day we’ll all be preserved in the London Museum. Relics, with no use. Everyone wants their piece of celebrity status on the internet or so it seems. Actually, no, they don’t. The people who have too much time to avoid looking for jobs, doing stuff that matters and being useful can be keyboard warriors. Just like me. Some spout off about this, that and the other. Some offer informed views or share their photographic talents. Others slip in their technical skills or artworks. Many view contents not really suitable for children. Don’t lie. Your internet history has been downloaded – the moment you clicked this post. It can be done. I have friends in high places, Huawei… then there are trolls, internet bullies, lies, spies and down right spies. Even Part-Man-Part-Cloth-Part-Stone, Donald Trump is allowed access to the internet.

Reactions to news, events, celebrities falling arse about face on Love Island or some such other lighter-than-light-floating-turdish entertainment can be shared. News and politicians can be slated, viewed and opinions slammed onto an electronic plain of imagination. Today’s thoughts become yesterday’s angst and we get to laugh at our previous electronic Dear Diary entries, when they pop up on Facebook as memories. Only these electronic reminders of something that happened before are flung at us digitally. I like writing. I’m not good at it. It is my ambition. I am writing more and more, because if you pile enough shit in the right place, somebody will notice. Why hasn’t The Guardian called me yet? The conservative government are gaining strenth from social division. Few engage the conversation needed to oust them. Maybe I can write some more crap and engage someone, somewhere. Unlikely.

Maybe I need to frame a crime. I’ve been studying detective shows and novels for years. I will train a wild Western chimpanzee (from Liberia) to murder. The victim will be a captive-bred but escaped stray Eurasian lynx from Iran. The weapon of choice will be supplied by Britain to Saudi Arabia and found in Yemen before being filed down to be used for the evil act. However, is it evil? No, the Western chimpanzee must end the life of the Eurasian lynx in order to prevent the death of an orphaned Muslim kid abandoned in Syria, because the transgender adoptive parents from Liverpool and Manchester were in the gender-neutral toilets of Starbucks – the Sana’a branch.

Who would you choose to support? The chimpanzee problem has multi-layed problems. An American pet chimpanzee once bit someone in Connecticut. Not everyone likes Travis. The Eurasian aspect gives a kind of cross-culture problem for the Eurasian lynx. Then, you must consider the location, race, and culture differences. What will the journalistic bit-part character Jeremy Corbyn do? Especially, when he finds that his salary is being paid for my MegaCorp based in its new office of Riyadh. What if this was a story inspired by real events? How would you react? Twitter. You know it. Two web browsers open, one for social media, and one watching kittens dance suggestively to the music of Gnarls Barkley. It wouldn’t be an easy scenario for a newspaper to report about.

“We don’t want paedophiles round here! Unless they’ve really worked on their choreography…” – 2009’s version of me, marked the death of Michael Jackson with an immature and tasteless comment on Facebook.

My Aunty Susan rightly put me in my place regarding subsequent jokes copied and pasted from recent messages marked the tenth anniversary of Michael Jackson’s plastic nose being melted down.  Even today, it is amazing how much respect Michael Jackson gets, despite the lawsuits and continual abuse allegations. Too much time is spent pandering to the needs of his estate and less talk or attention is given to the victims of abuse. Just like Jimmy Carr and other seemingly heartless comedians, sometimes something controversial needs saying or writing, even if the person doing so completely disagrees with it. Otherwise, we end up with a nation of Love Island watchers, completely devoid of conversation. England is becoming American on that front.

The bitter taste of supposed jokes about Michael Jackson still hangs in the air. It doesn’t mean that I am promoting said topic. I was quite shocked to see my words from a decade ago. Isn’t it time more voices condemned his music to the vaults of history? The talent and contribution to musical arts needs eradication through choice, not through censorship. The voice for promoting and celebrating Michael Jackson needs an airing too. He could have been innocent of historic child sex abuse. To quote MJinnocent.com there could have been “many inconsistencies, contradictions and outright lies being told about Michael Jackson” or not. Just like Operation Yewtree it is a mess, and one that may result in a desire by society to rid the worst types of crimes: child sex abuse. Or, we could do a Spotify and just add a mute button. Either way, the conversation cannot be ignored, because like historic sexual abuse cases, today there are in all probability a huge number of systemic problems likely being ignored by the top brass, globally.

Despite all of this, life is finding a way to eradicate these problems. Berlin is baking. Rome is melting. Spain is on fire. Britain is writing letters of complaint. The heatwave was warned to all. It arrived. It cooked. It killed. Like the Spice Girls it will keep coming again and again, and not just from the Sahara. Of course colimate change could be lies or truth. Greenland may be melting at an unprecedented level. Fake truth? Volcanoes going from dormant to active may be stronger reasoning. Is the weather stable near you? Are you experiencing snowfall or the falling of fires from the sky? Snow in June, in Italy? Are 8 billion tonnes of ice being lost from the Himalayas year-on-year? Do we need the third polar ice cap in the Himalayas? Is Greenland a safe place to travel? Should we still call Mont Blanc, Mont Blanc?

“Of course, snowfall can happen in mountain areas in June. But if global warming exists this shouldn’t happen anymore.” – Dr Marco Poletto, Geologist

If the world is warming, are you seeing flash floods and thunderstorms more frequently? Are these storms much more violent in nature? How many trees do we need to re-plant? Do sewerage works need re-designing? Should roads absorb more water? Do zero emission cities work? Are we thinking about the environment too slowly? Are European glaciers due to be extinct? Is plastiglomerate pretty? So many questions. Too many. Will mushrooms save the day?

“Let’s go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for this all to blow over…” – Shaun of The Dead

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Snow White & The Huntsman (2019 Edition)

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

 

This week has mostly been spent preparing for and running examinations. I’ve recorded six listening tests. I’ve assessed 76 students in their oral English examinations. I’ve also ran 26 mathematics and English papers for my class. Yes, we’re firmly into the final furlong of the school’s academic year. Next week will be spent writing 26 student reports and seeing their parents. In some ways it is a pleasure to feed back how good many of the students are behaving and how well they are achieving. My class’s students will have reports based on a school report I had at a similar age. The sections will include:

  1. Attitude
very talented / demonstrates a great capability / increasing in ability / consistent / vocabulary impressive / grammar improving / understanding of work clear / thoughtful / focused / cooperative / enthusiastic /often overzealous / observant / strong / very creative / daydreamer / seeks information independently / good organisational skills / positively curious / passionate / great listening skills / energetic / often a model student / great eye contact and rapport
  1. Interests
  2. Handwriting
excellent / very clear / very good / good / satisfactory / improving
/ needs improvement / poor at times / poor
  1. Effort
Almost the same options as per handwriting.
  1. Recommendations
  1. Read English books or comic books. e.g. Roald Dahl, Dr Seuss, Judith Kerr, Michael Bond, Judy Blume.
  2. Watch productive English videos. e.g. Blue Planet II, Our Planet, Life on Earth, ManCity.com
  3. Listen to English music. e.g. BBC Radio 6 Music, Doves, Arcade Fire, Cherry Ghost, David Byrne
  4. Keep building up their confidence. This is the beginning and we can only get better!
  5. They need more self-belief! YOU CAN DO IT! We can do this together. We need you!
  6. Try to speak English more often. Raise their hand more often. If you don’t try, you don’t do. Practice phonetics/phonics/sounds/reading aloud often.
  7. Practice and improve handwriting. Copy words and sentences from difficult storybooks. Improve accuracy.
  8. Improve teamwork skills. Be more patient. Stop shouting out! Share more. Use manners often. Follow the class rules more closely.
  9. Keep learning! Make mistakes without fear! Talk English as often as possible. Stay curious. Ask questions and look at new things.
  10. Find an interest in cultures, history, wildlife, music, entertainment, etc. What? Who? When? Why? Where? Which? Do? How? Which?
  1. General comments
WORK/CHILDREN/ADULTS excellent / very good / satisfactory / poor at times / poor
OVERALL considerate / well-mannered / positive attitude / would benefit from a little more care and attention / sometimes distracted by others / sometimes needs help controlling emotions / needs further encouragement / expresses ideas clearly / bubbly / dependable

From this, the conversation with each student’s parents will last around 15 minutes. My colleague Cici will provide a great translation service for some but not all the parents.


The raging battle for Number 10 Downing Street’s hot seat goes on. Jeremy Hunt, Tory MP said, the next Prime Minister “must be trustworthy to avoid no Brexit”. He them went on to say he is trustworthy. Is he oblivious to why people call him an obscenity that rhymes with his name? A year as Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs, followed around 6 years as Secretary of State for Health and Social Care. Before that he was the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport during a time when London held the 2012 Olympics. He was the Minister for the Olympics, having been Shadow Minister for the Olympics and Shadow Minister for Disabled People. Since 2005 he has represented the poor region of South West Surrey as their Member of Parliament. So what is wrong with 52 year old Jeremy Richard Streynsham Hunt?

Some would argue he is a cunt. Others just slip it into news broadcasts and interviews. As a son of a senior officer in the Royal Navy (Admiral Sir Nicholas Hunt), Mr Hunt hasn’t done bad for himself. His rise from impoverished Lambeth to the Houses of Parliament has been meteoric. It hasn’t been helped by him being a distant relation of Elizabeth II and Sir Oswald Mosley. Mr Hunt was educated at a school for the needy, Charterhouse. Here, as headboy, he read Philosophy, Politics, and Economics before attending Magdalen College – a kind of inner-city comprehensive blighted by gun and knife crime. Mr Hunt has been an English language teacher in Japan, on a TEFL-scheme but couldn’t sell marmalade to the Japanese. He needed to explore the Peruvian market.

Mr Hunt has never had trouble with expenses, rules, and has never had a topsy-turvy attitude to exiting the European Union. Nepotism and privilege are word unfamiliar to him. The News Corporation takeover bid for BskyB went well. Nor did he need to apologise over anything relating to the Hillsborough football disaster and national scandal by governments since. If he did, he could use his tax savings from his Hot Course project.

Throughout it all Mr Hunt has supported the NHS – even at the Olympics, via the proven science of homoeopathy, abortion control, chasing foreigners for lost money, hammering back any payrises for medical staff (the greedy undeserving bastards), and managed 231,136 followers on a UK Government website. He has dispensed helpful advice, championed experts, assisted Accident and Emergency departments, and backed extra weekend work. He has truly understood junior doctors, expanded medical care, followed peer reviews closely, without a worry about his own interests. After the NHS he backed the bombers and our bombs and has since battered the EU for being like the former USSR. How his Chinese wife Lucia Guo finds time to see Mr Hunt is beyond me? His political heroes are Hull-born William Wilberforce and Maggie Fucking Thatcher. Mr Hunt cannot be mixed up with the retired cyclist Jeremy Hunt because that 2001 and 1997 British national road race champion wasn’t a cunt. The now director sportif of Azerbaijani Continental team Synergy Baku Cycling Project. The cycling Jeremy Hunt would never refer to his Chinese wife as being “Japanese”. Bad stereotypes, talking about your own wife, and difficult rival nations aside, political Jeremy Hunt is a [INSERT EXPLETIVE HERE].

On the 24th of July, either The Right Honourable Jeremy Hunt or Boris Johnson will enter Number 10 as Prime Minister. The comedian and pub landlord sang. “If we’re going to go down, we’re going to go down together.” Knuckle down and strap yourself in, welcome to the new Blitz,. Snow White or The Huntsman?

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Mum.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

To quote Salford’s Jason Manford, his autobiography is called Brung Up Proper: My Autobiography. Without the words my autobiography, that’s how I feel. I feel ‘brung up proper”. My reasoning is simple. My mother did a great job. Now let’s drop the word mother and never use the American word mom. Mum, that’s what I call her. That’s who she is. Always will be. Dad and Mum in spring 1982 did something that my imagination will not entertain a single thought for. About 9 months later, out popped me. Dad’s second successful sperm. Asa won the race in Dad’s previous marriage. Good luck at winning a race now Asa, I’m faster and fitter! I think. Anyway, here I was and Mum, previously known as Elaine became a mam, not mom. We’re not American.

Mum and Dad divorced before I was old enough to dash Lego away. Although, I last bought a Ghostbusters Lego set three years ago, so that’s no barometer for my life. Anyway, somewhere in my infant years at New Moston Primary School, I found out life was not going to be all happy families. I suddenly had no father at home, and Mum was left to carry the burden: me.

Mum juggled hard and cooked reasonably well. I grew. New shoes always found my feet, even if I was a titleholder at breaking those shoes soon after. Some of those pairs of shoes managed a whole week without damage. Once? Weekend Dad was there as often as he could be, but Mum was always there to pick up the crying boy waiting at the window all day. Mum would ensure I could see wildlife in the park and chase around for me, when I stumbled over fences to look at dead birds on forbidden embankments. The dangers that I encountered only made Mum more of a great guide. With my endless energy, I’d launch myself over the sofa into the walls and no doubt give Mum occasion to talk with the Social Services. Those awkward moments probably followed Corn Flakes mixed with washing-up liquid in the toilet bowls and peaceful baths in the sink.

Mum, accompanied by my boyhood companion Pup the wonder dog and Basil the cat (until he ran away, probably through ear trauma) raised me. The many days getting me to focus at schoolwork gave me somewhere to channel my energy. In 1988, my sister Astrid arrived and we’d all share the affections of a great mum.

After Mum’s circumstances changed, we ended up moving from Warbeck Road in Moston to Range Street in Clayton. Here life became a little more tough and bumpy. I started at Clayton Brook Primary School and encountered some bullying. I can’t recall too much of life there, just a few summer sports day events and my first task writing a list of words beginning with the letters st. That and the maths books being too easy.

Almost as soon as my arrival at Clayton Brook, life moved us over to Levenshulme. Now with a younger brother in Paul. Mum completed studies via the Open University and enjoyed many tough years working for the Citizens Advice Bureau, initially on a voluntary basis before going fulltime. Mum’s social studies course has served her well ever since. Her love of cacti, succulents, and the garden is in full bloom. Sometimes some stitching is evident amongst her growing hobbies. Mum has travelled more and more, even going overseas to Cyprus and Malta. What’s next for Mum? The world is still her oyster. My Mum is brilliant – and she can go anywhere and do anything she likes, especially with her own powerful mind.

Mynah interruption

This writing was begun on the 20th of June. However, I am continuing now, a day later, due to writer’s block. The writer’s block in this situation being a mynah bird. It dropped into a class yesterday and following some commotion, ended up bunking at my place for the night. The playful bird nibbled my ear a few times and released its bowels on my shoulders more than a few times. We talked, we laughed, and we played but thankfully today I have been aware that the school gardener is the owner. Some pesky students let it out of its cage. All’s well that ends well, right?

“In the information society, nobody thinks. We expected to banish paper, but we actually banished thought.” ― Michael Crichton, Jurassic Park

Anyway I think considering I lived in there locations before I hit puberty and struggled at university, the fact that I am not a street cleaner or serving French Fries in the American eMbassy is testament to how Mum has always been a great friend for me – and put up with my teenage and youthful mishaps for far too long. She has listened to my problems, given great advice and acted as a great example. Also, Mum likes good music – and that has influenced me greatly. Without James, REM and Pulp, Led Zeppelin, Scottish-born Finley Quaye, and others my life would be less colourful. Mum let me watch London’s Burning on a Sunday night, passed my regular 9pm bedtime from an early age. Other comedy shows and a few great movies were permitted from time to time. Mum braved rains and flooding to see Ghostbusters 2 with me at The Roxy Cinema in 1989, took me and my mate Neil to Blackpool, and gave me Jurassic Park and Congo, to date my two favourite novels.

“It’s hard to decide who’s truly brilliant; it’s easier to see who’s driven, which in the long run may be more important.” ― Michael Crichton, Congo

Mum let me hang out with Peter and Dan. At times there was trouble and the odd broken thing or two, but throughout we formed unbreakable friendships despite testing their resilience from time to time. These friendships gave stability to my life. Mum encouraged us all. That’s how I ended up at university and ever since then I have been trying to be independent and pretending to grow up. If I ever crack this life, it will because Mum helped me to do it.

 

Meanwhile, after a great friendly tournament managed by Aaron and Murray’s F.C. last weekend, we had a game versus a Korean team midweek. Both dates were roasting. 90% humidity and mid-30s temperatures do that. Work has been going deep into injury time. By that, the last few kicks of the game of work will involve exams – and I need to prepare one final science paper and then mark it. Next week is my final student-facing week. Summer awaits soon after. Kind of. Well, after Friday the 12th of July.

Aaron, of Murray’s F.C. and general Dongcheng fame, mentioned his mate had some goods impounded on their way from Oman. The customs rules for importing or deliveries to China state: anything marked as ‘Made in China’ cannot be sent to China. Good look returning things to China. When I told Aaron the story of some of my unrecived parcels to China, he said how I’ve had some interesting and weird times. Spot on. It is an odd place. Especially, to send a parcel.

In closing, I want to wish everyone a happy Shaun Goater Day. FEED THE GOAT.

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Roy Keane: City Manager 2.0

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

We should talk more.

Fresh from the las few weekends is a wee bit of world coverage of Hong Kong’s protests. This follows The Guardian, Washington Post, NBC, refinitiv.com and HuffPost, facing exclusion in China. Wikipedia died a death in China a few weeks back. The 4th of June events at Tiananmen Square and around the country in 1989 may be the reasoning. Even the British embassy posted things on social media around that time and found that they were deleted. Other news websuites such as Bloomberg etc tone down their news. The state of play between China and the world is always so delicate. Between the parent state and the special administrative zone of Hong Kong, it is tedious and difficult. To Hong Kong residents protesting is “in their DNA”. Still, that beats releasing a charity single by a bunch of overrated talentless popstars.

Don’t misread my message or think wrong of me, music has power to change. Without the battle of Liam and Noel Gallagher, we’d have a dull world. Noel Gallagher supported by Johnny Marr was ace at the Castlefield Bowl a few years back. Even Liam Gallagher was a great night at Old Trafford Cricket Ground in 2018. Both reminded me of great Oasis gigs at the City of Manchester Stadium and Maine Road. Heaton Park’s homecoming giog just before Oasis disbanded had support from Kasabian. But for me, music has lacked something in the years that have followed Live Aid and Band Aid etc. U2 and Arcade Fire support their causes and you can find evidence if you look closely at their event programmes of website. You won’t see the kind of brilliance in political digs that The Levellers and Johnny Marr master. Seeing the mesmeric Cherry Ghost in Manchester Cathedral should have come with a message. It was the house of God, after all. Music has power but like sport, and other forms of entertainment, it plays to the popular and the masses. We need the Super Furry Animals, SFA and Doves to kick off people’s thoughts more. The world would be better if the Foo Fighters held a political revolver every now and then. If Ariana Grande or Celine Dion sang about a cause, or backed the flag of Taiwan, it would be controversial but it’d get people talking.

Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson & co.

The Right Dishonourable Boris Johnson MP is one and every reason why everyone should be careful of politics. If Donald Trump can succeed, so can this blubbering buffoon. The good people of Uxbridge and South Ruislip voted him in as an MP. The people of Henley had got rid of him before. Ken Livingstone and Sadiq Khan sandwiched him as Mayors of London. He was Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs for almost two years. Boris, born of Manhattan, New York City is the child of an artist. His mother, Charlotte Maria Offlow Johnson Wahl has suffered from Parkinson’s Disease for over 37 years. She has also suffered from her son for around 54 years. Boris Johnson’s father Stanley is a banker. A proper banker. The world’s World Bank banker of bankers. Surprisingly he comes from the modest Cornish town of Penzance. There is a history of Turkish and Germanic blood. Boris has a journalistic sister and a brother who is also the MP for Orpington. Boris Johnson married Marina Wheeler, QC in 2016 and has since divorced his second wife. I’m unsure if it was to do with her stance on public law, including human rights or infidelity. Boris is known to be a bit of a player. The powers of politics are everywhere to be seen in the Johnson clan.

Boris Johnson is dangerous. He is not just controversial. He is inflammatory and he is well-supported. He is the Man Utd of parliament. His humour is clear. It gives him an endearing quality. But, behind his blonde hair and his cold shark eyes stands more than entertainment. Elitism, cronyism, dishonesty, sexism, laziness, racism, homophobia and more follow this stray dog of a political jouster around. He is a smart monster but a shit version of Winston Churchill, at best.

The environmental and conservation-supporting Stanley Johnson said his son Boris Johnson’s burka comments did not go far enough. Nor do Boris bikes, written columns, sharing your lovechild, saving a filmmaker, or being a great spearhead of London 2012. Perhaps his defence of arms sales is okay? Or his love of poetry? Or was it the spy that loved him? Boris does not fear China as a superpower though.

The incestuous adventures of parliament continues…

The candidates of the Tory Party include a one-time reformed cokehead Mikey Gove (probably in force with Rory Stewart), probably Paul Scholes, Jeremy Hunt, Sajid David, and frontrunner/mop-head Boris. I wouldn’t be surprised if Pep Guardiola’s cardigan is in the running. The final two standing get to run their Conservative Party – and be temporary Prime Minister until the next one (whether voted in using democracy or filling in the boots of someone legging it).

Former Secretary of State for Exiting the European Union Dominic Raab is out. His past at Jesus College served him well in his role as that minister for a staggering 4 months. Now he “can rediscover and reward the lost virtue of hard-work” as he now re-joins a “a fairer society”. One down, too many more to go.

Based on all this crap going on, I reckon come December Roy Keane will be Manchester City’s new manager assisted by Sir Alex Ferguson and his pet dog Wayne Rooney. Stranger things have happened. And that is, why Boris Johnson will be the next Prime Minister. Let’s get it out of the way. Let’s do something as a nation that may in the end mess us up so much, that we switch it off at the power socket, do a system reboot and crack in with a long-needed upgrade. We can always call customer support at the White House, or wherever and be back up running just after the Apocalypse that brings us to the Armageddon.

Other signs of the impending doom of mankind include: Lightning versus Seaside Resorts; footwear holidays; cats loving dogs; golf becoming a combat sport; UFC becoming the only means to gain a job in the banking sector; Marmite to be the national dish of Uganda; retro-modern-futura-fashion to be the new name of nudity; and the release of James Bond – Episode 25: The Phantom Menace

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Preview one.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

So, today I learnt that if you the below into Microsoft Word and hit enter, something happens. Try it. Not amazing, but certainly different.

Lorem =(5,5)

In fact, I could not type it easily, because everytime I hit enter, it happened. Why did I need it? I didn’t. It just came when I was watching a YouTube video on how to make word clouds. Common words like it, the, a, and so on are removed. I wanted to see common words from this blog of over 301,000 words to see what words stand out. I imagined City and Manchester to dominate. The result is as per below (2000 most common used words):

word cloud blog 3rd June 2019 b

I did the same on the 120,000 word novel that I have written. Yet to be published. This is the first preview, in a way. Here is that result:

NOVEL WORD CLOUD

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Round Our Way

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste


TOUR

Well, I’ve booked flights to return to Blighty on the 31st of July, with the return to China slotted in on the 15th of September. That follows four days in Yokohama (Japan) watching English Premier League Champions Manchester City, and a trip that takes in Nanjing, Shanghai and Hong Kong to see the City face West Ham Utd, Europa League-bound Wolves or Newcastle Utd and then Kitchee SC. It is expensive and beyond my bank balance, but you only live once, I think. Money isn’t all there is to life. If your nation is billions in debt and U.S.A. is trillions in debt, and you don’t fully agree with capitalism, then flip it, live for the moment and the future, at the expense of yesterday. We can always make more money, but we can’t make more days of living. Our species has had more warnings than we care fit. Godzilla: King of Monsters, even delivers this cheesy message. Just do thes best you can, and to quote Braveheart, every man dies, not every man really lives. Something like that.


IMG_5346.JPGI may die without offspring, and in debt but I’ll be damned if I will die unhappy. If I pass on a few smiles and some good advice along the way, then I am happy. Morbidly happy. I can’t wait to get back and enjoy summer with family and close friends. I miss so many good friends. I certainly miss my family. Homesickness seems to creep in as the football season ends, and my eyes firmly focus on a summer trip home. It has happened this way since 2015. This year my holiday is extended by a few weeks – and also, I will request Christmas off, to visit home. I need to see my family I owe it to them.


MANC AIRPORT ANNIVERSARY 2013 (25)Summer in the U.K. will probably see some football, London for the Community Shield, a few Premier League games, some Aberystwyth Town jaunts and whatever suits. I hope to see Bristol Balloon Festival when near our Ace’s. Chadderton Duck Race should be in there for Dr Kershaw’s Hospice. There has to be an airshow to visit. Perhaps some Tour of Britain cycling action, Vincent Kompany’s Testimonial game and a memorial tree planting. Everything is possible with your own powerful mind. Oh, and Doves near Acton town. That’s a must. Perhaps the Ramsbottom World Black Pudding Throwing Championships. Sadly, I fly back the week before Egremont Crabbing Fair & World Gurning Championships. Hopefully, I will find a way to see the great Lancaster Bomber fly, whether over Saddleworth, Southport or Blackpool, I don’t know!


I want to spend some of summer researching my family tree too. I know so little about my heritage.

gran and aunty sue

My Mother’s side:

Ivy Harrison was born on Densmore Street in Failsworth.  At the age of five Ivy attended Mathers Street Council School in 1930.  On April the 13th 1939 Ivy became a machinist making night clothes for Smith and Nephew (a Hollinwood based company).  In 1943 during the Second World War Avro Ltd. recruited Ivy to make munitions and aircraft pieces. Parachutes were also made. The war effort needed everything. In the wake of a recovering U.K. climate during 1949, Ivy married John Hitchin.  In May of that year, Carolyn Hitchin was born.  In 1955 John Hitchin died from a severe heart attack.  Ivy became a widow aged thirty.  And in 1956, Ivy’s mother died aged sixty-nine.

In late December 1956, Ivy remarried, to John Roberts.  John came from a long line of North-Wales’ Welsh men. Susan Ivy Roberts was born upon the 5th of October 1957. Soon after, Ivy’s third child Elaine June Roberts was born upon the 20th of June 1961. John Roberts died in my early years. My Gran remarried at the deathbed of her companion Ernest Freeman. She would pass away as a widow in February 2014 and leave behind family who miss her most dearly.

To be continued…

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

IMG_5346.JPG

Contemptible. Ridiculous.

“A woman in what is still a man’s world” – Right Honourable Harriet Harman QC, Labour MP

Prime Minister Theresa May cried! Grenfell? No. Windrush deportation? No. Foodbank uses? No. NHS cuts? Deaths of homeless sleepers? No. Childhood poverty levels? No. Self-sympathy tears? Yes. And they wonder why some believe those in power are lizards!? Her legacy is, at best, contemptible. No place for her on the positive walls of history are likely. She has until the 7th of June to fix the unfixable.

“She has, just for a moment, allowed her emotions to show” – Ken Clarke CH QC

Party politics is fallin apart, left right, and centre-right. Instead of two huge party rivals with the odd group picking off the spoils of war, we have the most divided United Kingdom ever. Okay, well maybe less than before actual unification in 1284 (Wales annexed by England), 1536 (Wales, legally part of England), 1603 (Scotland joined and Great Britain was born), 1707 (all parliaments acting as one Kingdom of G.B.), 1801 (U.K. of Britain & Ireland) or 1922 (Ireland set free, less the Northern bit) dependent on your view of when we actually came together. And ever since then, we’ve been together-ish. Alienation and independence, devolved assemblies – and the odd campaign for Free Scotland aside. Completely unified. Like Manchester Utd under David Moyes/Louis Van Gaal/Jose Mourinho and possibly Ole Gunnar Solskjær in the months to come (if my bet pays off).

“Tories ‘have nothing to offer the country'” – Nick Boles MP, former Conservative Party member

 

It is sad to see Everest and Nepal grabbing negative headlines too. Two deaths on the south side and one on the Tibet side make for a strong argument for lottery-style permits – or at least a longterm permit scheme, whereby those who climb enter a waiting list or something to avoid congestion towards the peak. If you’re in a queue, it isn’t a challenge worth doing. My condolences to those sho succumbed to the challenge, but they should never be risking their lives in a queue. That’s ridiculous!


 

Sunday, will see the E.U. election results for our local elections. I didn’t vote. It isn’t easy to vote if you are overseas. Also, the E.U. elections to me has always seemed like a waste of time. Doubling up for the sake of it.

Right here, right now

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

 

This week I have been mostly singing about Champions. I could bang on about Trump, hatred, warships in Iraq, Liverpool fans, the rising octs of football or climate change. But today, let’s look at the dystopian present. The bigger issues in life such as waving a Palestine flag in the Eurovision Song Contest finale mean nothing to some, but much to many. Well done Hatari, for adding something missing and Madonna, even if you are touching on archaic status. Nothing says ignorance and cultural genocide like a nation ignoring disputed territories and a region actively fighting for space and land, at another race of people’s expense. Instead of using the competition as a voice for conversation about the future, the The European Broadcasting Union (EBU), most of the obling contestants and huge groups in the audience chose something else. Ignorance. The same feeling that I reserve for this popular form of talent contest. The thought police have won.

Doublethink this newspeak will you? Tommy Robinson, AKA Stephen Yaxley-Lennon, AKA Andrew McMaster, AKA Paul Harris, AKA Wayne King is making the news at an unprecedented level. This unparalled exposure ranks up there with thinking Manchester City could complete a domestic treble, as thought two decades ago. Extraordinarily, the far right is on our shores. The Pegida organisation (Patriotic Europeans Against the Islamisation of the Wes) is right here, right now, dividing, standing and conquering. The next step up or down from Nick Griffin won’t fade away, despite the fact he has a list of convictions and allegations as long as two arms. This twat holds the post of Special Political Advisor for the Leader of the UK Independence Party, Gerard Batten. Batten himself came fifth in Maidenhead’s General Election. He was so bad that his 871 votes barely registered alongside Theresa May’s 37,718 votes. Tommy Robinson sounds like a man of the people. He steals pseudonyms to gain popularity and sound like he is just an everyday geezer from down the pub.

Eric Morecambe must have bene turning in his grave. Fired from an engineering job for assault, Tommy Robinson, served time in the old nick. He joined the British National Party. It was around then that he adopted a Luton Town football hooligan’s name. He doesn’t believe himself to be a racist – and even supports Israel etc, yet time and time again the news shows this to be a contradictive trait. The English Defence League was formed in 2009. They’re a dangerous bunch of ex-and-current-football hooligans. They’re radical against radicals, but also closer to Batman on the vigilante front. Are they racially motivated and full of hate? You decide. The European Defence League followed. It sounded like the UEFA Champions League for fullbacks, but in fact it is anti-Muslim.

Robinson has done some good stuff too. On November the 8th 2011, he was found protesting at FIFA’s headquarters in Zürich about the fact that FIFA wouldn’t allow England to use the Remembrance Poppy symbol wasn’t a bad move. The BBC series When Tommy Met Mo, followed the far right knobhead in his meetings with British Muslim political commentator, Mo Ansar. This apparently led to him exiting the EDL and going on to live happily ever after. Or not quite, he has been found supporting people under threat of conviction time and time again. Wherever there is an allegation that can be considered antisemitic and racist in nature, Robinson is one right arm with a Sieg Heil away. Or so it seems, according to the media and every Tommy Robinson tracking Twitter account. Using phrases like, “I’m not justifying it” or “violent and cursed book” alongside mosques and the Quran has been his calling card.

Historian Barry Mehler learned that the dread of some kind of threat to the ‘white race’ in the years that followed World War II. The scientific community responsible for Nazi collaboration and eugenicists previously at home finding ways to wipe out threats were talking and finding ways to launch a comeback career. Very much like Take That and Boyzone seem to do every two months. Diversity and multiculturalism came back to the U.K. in the good times of financial growth and job prosperity. And then jobs slipped away. A new so-called pure and white Poland is being pushed. Russia and China defend traditional values. Alternative für Deutschland is here. Trump’s campaigners and coworkers are guilty of hate on a daily basis. Angela Saini’s article about racism and modern science is alarming.

Big Brother may like to throw this unperson into Room 101. Robinson appears bigoted and loves to stir hatred. His language has propelled and fed hate. He has directly influenced Darren Osborne using his vehicle to ram an attack on worshippers by the Finsbury Park Mosque. In doing so, he has acted as an enemy of the people – and an enemy of the state: the U.K. and all its beautiful tapestry of multiculturalism. Am I being harsh? Maybe I have been brainwashed, just like Tommy Robinson does on social media. If there is a weakness and a refugee is in need of criminalising, then Tommy will find it. His network of facists sit on social media mixing shit, sharing shit and generally causing shit. These people have the balls to accuse Daesh (ISIS/ISIL etc) of preying on the weak. Facebook banned Tommy Robinson from its servces for something accounting that of ‘dehumanising language’, in particular ‘violence targeted at Muslims’. There aren’t enough sentences that can be etched to show the staggering numeric volume of shite posted.

The EDL slogan is Latin, In hoc signo vinces’ which means ‘in this sign you will conquer’. The beauty of language is used for the banner of hate. Their palingenetic ultranationalism seeks rebirth. A new slate. A clean sheet. They act with populism for their selfish interests and full of hate. They make genuine everyday people afraid of English nationalism. The days of celebrating St. George’s Day have long gone. Fear surrounds it. To fly the white flag with a red cross, may make you associated with that of those full of anti-Islamism, Islamophobia and other racial division. Alan Lake is their latest leader, and even he uses a pseudonym. Just like Bruce Wayne, there is darkness below the surface and we’re not talking Robert Pattinson dressed as Batman. Adolf Hitler and his ideals are closer to this former Pacific Capital Investment Management director. The 4 Freedoms website he has founded was pure hatred. His claws in the network of hate that features Tommy Robinson are worrying. U.S. billionaires, think tanks, foreign investment, misuse of charity donations and supporter actions of the EDL and Tommy Robinson have been bankrolling hate.

Education, debate and sensible measures to ensure extremism isn’t on our shores are important. The sad fact is that we live in increasingly uncertain times. Jobs, security, housing for all, and many social issues like homelessness dominate the British way of life. Those who have and those who don’t are scattered throughout the land. Working class distractions are increasingly becoming a middleclass luxury. The days of watching football, and live music are increasingly becoming credit card purchases over living within your means. Fewer and fewer people understand socialism or the left side of the political spectrum. The Labour Party went central for too long and the Liberal Democrats are reborn, but even they seem central. The U.K. is a blur of uncertainty, false truths, lies, and misunderstanding. Wasn’t the Weimar Republic like this once?

Their two minutes’ hate is not just found online. It has crept into society and swept across the nation. Now, the silent far right will voice more frequently. The hidden minority are undercutting worries and exploiting our weak political groups. Pseudonyms are popping up everywhere. Maybe it is to high from potential frausters and protect their own interests, or perhaps, just perhaps, hate is more acceptable under a username. Perhaps this writing will slip into a memory hole later today, and my username will be erased forever. A block of more than 299,500 words gone. Your telescreens won’t remember me, because 2+2=5. This week Tommy Robinson, following thousands of flyers being delivered throughout northwest England, stands for MEP in the European elections. His seat is hoped to be the north-west of England. I hope that the region votes others, in a clear “fuck off” to him. If not, welcome to InfoWars and 1984. We’re all fucked.

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Farting Fair Play & Harry Hole

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste


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CHAMPIONS – AGAIN (& Financial fair play)

This season has seen one of the tightest title competitions ever. I won’t write too much. I won’t laugh at Liverpool F.C. Whilst some of their fans irk me, I respect their club set-up. They abolished their connection to a bottled water supplier with alleged possible and dubious human right connections. They paid off huge debts during their takeover with no fuss from the media. Their recruitment has been wise and fitting in recent years. Not since Andy Carroll, have they had a dud player. City were regular buyers of the over-priced until recent years. The prejudism towards City’s new money and new ability to compete may have been reported by Liverpool F.C. stakeholder New York Times (NYT) all too often, but this is life. Just like the Manchester Guardian, the NYT was set up to voice opinion and create conversation, whilst seeking truths. And in true form, Manchester City responded directly with a statement. Unlike the official website of the football club, the newspaper cites sources without revealing the sources. Essentially the same as most postings of crap on Twitter. The papers ambitions of adding to over 127 Pulitzer Prizes is based on speculation – not bias.

Anyway enough about that, Liverpool F.C. have assembled a fantastic squad with their lovely Warrior kits (owned by New Balance, a Saudi Royal family investment).

The current reported UEFA investigation may be into the past, or present. Either way it doesn’t make too much sense in terms of fair play. Some clubs and national FAs have been funded by Bosch, Mercedes, Deutsche Bank and VW. How can they claim the high ground? Although some have battled bitter history and have defeated enemies time and time again.

Top versus Runners-Up Trophy winners on the money front makes me laugh. The numbers across the board are huge – and the money is as transparent as mud. Throw in them lot over the Manchester border for comparison too. Footballs backer will always have grey and possibly rainbow-shaded areas with colour coded charts of uncertainty. Who are we to judge the rights and wrongs of a sport that creates social evils, media unjust and headlines? It’s entertainment like every other industry of ‘things people watch to escape real life’. Surely, through talking an debating we’ll realise that at the end of the day, you can buy more players, buy more seats, buy more everything to get that margin of fine gains that has been in every sport since the dawn of time. The clean as a whistle UEFA and FIFA know how it goes. They must be careful not to bite the hand that feeds them. Instead of banning, or retrospective action, tidy the bloody rules up and make things more transparent. Then, us, the hard-working paying masses can get on and enjoy the bloody game every Saturday afternoon, I mean, whenever TV dictates.

State-aided funding of airlines etc, could be a weird one. How many sponsorship companies have been bailed out by governments? How many have acted as official agents of governments and done a spot of dirty work? The US Open Skies case had Etihad, Qatar-Airways and Emirates show that they were not state-aided. Also, City have previously shown evidence on paper that their Etihad sponsorship of City was directly funded by the Abu Dhabi Executive Council. So, why didn’t UEFA act?


Manchester City
Kit supplier:
Nike, UK£72 million (US$108 million) signed 2013, expires 2019 [£12 million a season] speculation that these numbers may be fabricated
Main sponsor: Etihad Airways, UK£400 million (US$652 million) signed 2011, expires 2021 [£40 million a season] speculation that these numbers may be fabricated
Sleeve sponsor: Nexen Tire, UK£10 million (US$12.9 million) per season, length unreported [£10 million a season] speculation that these numbers may be fabricated
Deals since 2017/18: Turtle Beach, Xylem, PAK Lighting, Marathonbet, AvaTrade, SeatGeek, Nexon, Tinder [loose morales?], Barclays [questionable], Amazon [bye, bye local traders], Gatorade, Khmer Beverages , Mundipharma, Rexona [sure?] and a whole host more. speculation that these numbers may be fabricated


Liverpool F.C.
Kit supplier
: New Balance (Trump supporter and owned by club owner John Henry’s close friend], UK£300 million (US$390 million), signed 2012, expires 2019 [£42.8 million a season* *once a record figure holder in 2012/13]
Main sponsor: Standard Chartered, UK£160 million (US$236.1 million), renewal signed 2018, expires 2023 [£32 million a season]
Sleeve sponsor: Western Union, UK£25 million (US$32.1 million), signed 2017, expires 2022 [£5 million a season]
Major deals since 2017/18: Standard Chartered [squeaky clean with no state backing in the middle east at all and certainly no cartel money in any accounts], Wireless Infrastructure Group, Petro-Canada Lubricants,
Tibet Water (Chinese-owned) actually ended.


Manchester Utd.
Kit supplier: Adidas, UK £750 million (US$$1.3 billion), signed 2016, expires 2026 [£75 million a season]
Main sponsor: General Motors, UK£371 million (US$559 million), signed 2012, expires 2021 [£41 million a season]
Sleeve sponsor: Kohler, UK£20 million (US$27.5 million) per season, length unreported [£20 million a season]
Major deals since start of 2017/18: Chivas, MoPlay, Melitta, Kohler, Belgium FA [an actual country’s association], MLILY, PingAn Bank, Cho-A Pharm, Science in Sport, General Sports Authority of Saudi Arabi


 

Fair Play.

And if you want to see fairness, then compare the other 17 Premier League clubs, the multitude of top level European clubs and see where we’re at. Is better marketing allowed too?

Then compare full gates, trophies since the Premier League’s inception, a twenty year sponsorship portfolio, global shirts sales, domestic TV coverage and overseas coverage, global marketing, ambition to grow the foreign market, invitations to high-value friendly competitions, added TV sales etc, pioneering eSports etc, TV documentaries… domestic and overseas investment potential.

Another thing is how do these sponsorship deals come about, bidding, tendering, slipping your mate at a good brand some plum deal and probably a spot of tax evasion.

Think about where that club invests, how their profits are used and whether they have passed the FA’s due diligence test of new club owners. Perhaps, UEFA could up the ante and set higher standards. FIFA could be involved too. It might affect them. Fit and proper ownership could then be extended to all sponsorship deals – with clubs declaring their fully visible statements to a neutral panel, or one that accounts for UEFA member associations. Tome to end the witch hunts and go on about setting a model example. Because every piece of crap that enters a paper, with “a source said this” and “an un-named official said that” ruins certain fans and gives them a weak and annoying response. Where we you when we were s4!t?

Also, how do fans of Liverpool or ManUre view FFP and how do their club frameworks see the knock on effect? Live every news article, we can all find a source here and there, but it doesn’t mean much.

“Sorry John,yes you want to make money,and want us to be an attractive catch for when the people you are slating at citeh and Chavski comes a knocking to buy your investment from you….or would you decline such offers because your such a staunch supporter of FFP?”

And, to read further Colin Savage (Prestwich OSC) at Bolts From The Blue has it spot on. It is my understanding that right now, one board, kind of preparation court has to prepare a case with recommendations. It must have solid evidence. There is also the fact that the financial fair play cases being pushed by Belgian lawyer Jean-Louis Dupont has yet to be concluded. UEFA’s slippery net is at full risk of crashing and burning. The E.U. and Belgian courts may kick it over to a court in Switzerland. Would you trust a place that hoarded gold from dubious piles of ruins arund the late 1940’s. Oh, and they only let women race and vote as late as the ’70’s. Look up the Swiss Verdingkinder and you’ll probably understand that fairness is far from a national trait. Switzerland is ranked one of the top 5 nations to export weaponry. Now look up how few factories they have capable of such a thing, and how few soldiers that they have. Don’t count the noble Swiss Army Knife. Saudi Arabia and the Ukrainian armed forces are up as much to benefit from Switzerland as UEFA is. The battle for fair play could equally take place in another nation.

If a case ever gets presented, who will it affect? The fans. Of course, the fans that nobody cares less about these days. The agents will still find ways to make money. The clubs will lose some trade and opportunity. The clubs and their hostories may be tainted. Juventus came out of their demotion smelling of rose. Ronaldo’s rape allegations weren’t treated seriously. Wayne Rooney was destroyed by papers following an affair, or visit to an elder lady of the night. The Heysel disaster saw 14 Liverpool F.C. fans convicted of manslaughter, and many more labeled as thugs. It tainted UEFA’s history in international competitions and promptly banned English clubs for five years (six years for Liverpool F.C.). Around 39 people died that day. UEFA, the Belgian police force and Liverpool F.C. continued on.

UEFA and any external independent legal team will have to consider the impact and consequences of any punishment. Just like disasters and the investigations that follow them, this will drag on. It will ruin football for the fans. It will be bitter and painful, but at least no lives have been lost – and no ruthlessly banded phrases used. Even of that club’s fans chuck potential death-causing smoke bombs at an enclosed coach full of people, or other such facial damaging glass bottles.


anfield may 2008 (6)

You’ll never walk alone.

I disagree with any fans using the “always a victim” tagline when referring to Liverpool F.C. It is dishonest and stupid to say so. The Hillsborough disaster was a low point in football history. 96 people died. Justice has yet to be found, despite 30 years of court actions. Just like the Bradford City stadium fire that claimed 56 people, these were disasters brought about by those above and those in control of stadia and their management. It is too easy to blame fans. It is tasteless to associate the death of many in this way. I urge anyone crying the words “always a victim” to play the shocking videos on YouTube on to reach their inner humanity. Don’t be a knobhead.


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What is fair market value?

Surely, if you restrict Forest Green Rovers from buying multiple players and building a 60,000 seater stadium to allow them to grow and one day compete with the Premier League clubs, then you restrict the evolution of football. Where are the original football league clubs now? Are they all equal? Can new clubs like M.K. Dons form? Isn’t it more important to back ambition and make clubs more self-sufficient. If a club can develop a pool of 200 players in a decade, it is unlikely they will all make it. They need places to go. Partnerships and deals need to be done. Just like marketing. Sheikh Mansour and Etihad are unrelated yet it would be foolish to think the two don’t have indirect influence over one or the other. If I was Queen Elizabeth II and I owned Reading F.C., whilst I owned Weetabix, but did not manage or influence them, I’d be pleased if Weetabix wanted to sponsor my Reading F.C. club. In City’s case UEFA have already accepted fair market value for all the sponsorship by Etihad but Aabar and Etisalat remain under question.

Don’t panic. Don’t worry. As Colin Savage mentions:

“It also could be that a journalist has completely misrepresented and sensationalised what they’ve been told. That wouldn’t be the first time that has happened.”

07 AUG 2004 CITY 3 LAZIO 1 (10)

Record Matched & Unbroken

A record could have been broken recently – for the least goals scored at home. I didn’t want our record to go. 2006/07 was a bleak season but a necessary one. It produced an end of season highlights video devoid of content. Simple boredom. I remember a few good memories that season. We got to the 1/4 finals of the FA Cup and that felt pretty good at the time. We stuffed Fulham 3-1 that season, and beat Arsenal at home too. Vassell’s derby day pen was annoying. How Ball managed to stay on the field that game was beyond me. To get to May without a home league goal since New Year’s Day was underwhelming. Vassell, Samaras, Corradi, Mills, Dabo, Hamann, Ball and Thatcher were never going to produce great football. Dickov, Miller and Reyna failed to score, surprisingly but that squad had no creativity at all. Even Mark Hughes backed Pearce after the FA Cup exit.

Hudderfield Town had the chance to set a record for the lowest goals scored at home in the season. They failed. By scoring a goal through Mbenza against Ole’s Man Utd, they simply matched the 2006/07 season of Stuart Pearce’s Manchester City.

The pre-season transfer market was dull. Joe Hart would go on to be a fine signing though. Nobody came in of great note. We loaned and sold many for brass buttons and a Gregg’s pasty of two. Reebok churned out a crap set of kits. Off the field John Wardle and co were obviousy working hard but City were about as exciting as winning the Thomas Cook Trophy (which we lost that season to Porto).


index

Jo Nesbo

‘I’m a stranger here, I’m a stranger everywhere’, sang Jarvis Cocker on his ballad I’m a stranger. Well, the words of that song reminded me of my most recent book in hand. The 11th novel that I have read so far, by Jo Nesbo has been gripping. It is called Police. The central character is Harry Hole. He is flawed, gritty and as far from perfect as can be. Fate has dealt him some shitty card hands. Jo Nesbø’s stories have featured in two movies, the standalone tale of Headhunters and Harry Hole’s serial killer epic The Snowman. Michael Fassbender portrayed the tall blonde in movie form, despite not being blonde. His sister suffers from a ‘mild dose of down’s syndrome’ – and every aspect of the character play is multi-layered and deep. There is black humour galore and some depth to the stories, in factual basis and an imagination, that didn’t do bad after the author left a career playing football for Molde FK. Anyway, the first book I lifted up was Headhunters, when I was staying at my Aunty Christine’s house. Then, I started with Harry Hole in The Redbreast. Since then I read the books in order, with the exception of The Bat & Cockroaches (which I picked up in Kathmandu at the poorly named United Book Shop in Thamel). Michael Connelly first published a novel in 1992, aged 36. His character Harry Bosch influenced Harry Hole, written by Jo Nesbo, and released by the then 37-year-old Nebo in 1997. Michael Crichton published a novel under the name John Lange by the age of 23. Roadl Dahl had released a book before his thirties too. He would be 45 before his well-known titles reached the bookshops. Obviousy not science but the thirties is a good time to release a book. The greats vary in age at their main publications, so I am not worried. Inspiration can be found everywhere. Fleming was 45 and he dodn’t do too bad.


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A peak too far.

Yínpíngshan and the park around it [东莞银瓶山森林公园] mark Dongguan’s highest point. It is in the eastern township of Xiegang. The mountain peak is shy of the Welsh 3000s (914.4 m) by a little way (18m, or 59 feet). The hill is sometimes referred to as Yinpingzui, just to confuse those looking for it. It is a city boundary from Huizhou’s Baiyunzhang – or under 5km from one another. The name Yínpíngshan translates to silver bottle mountain, because it kind of has a summit that has a vase or bottle-like funnel on top.

On this journey the top was immersed in clouds. The forecasted storm didn’t arrive but walking through cloud a drizzle ensured all at the summit were drenched. On the walk up peaks and summits all around the region dipped in and out of clouds, like Gods and Goddesses surveying their mortals below. An evergreen band coated the mountains with rare breaks accommodating streams and patches of open rocks. Beyond that trees covered all.

The summit of Yínpíngshan is bare and exposed. A cliff face on one side and on another a concrete pathway much like the Hilary Step on Everest, but far lower down in altitude and much more travelled. I can’t imagine the drink and snack sellers climbing so high to sell their double-priced goods. The granite looking rocks to each side of the enclosed pathway jutted out like generals on a battlefield.

On the descent we encountered a waterfall, and some dipped their feet in the rockpools beneath. What the fish in the pool made of it, I’ll not know. I’m told ancient species of Rhodoleia championii [Hong Kong Rose] and the fern brainea insignis.

To get there, there are buses from ZhangMuTou town (2&5 to XieGang Square, then 4 to NanMian village); or a a train to YinPing station; or as we opted a Didi car journey from Changping. Here! Dongguan magazine laid on a coach from Dongcheng that day too.

Going from 180m up to a height of 896m shouldn’t have troubled me. The elevation gains total around 796m and the 11.18km distance are not things that should trouble me. They did. The aches and pains of a healing foot and ankle injury and there to be seen. Battling humidity and my own discomfort were things that I expected. Almost every walk of a few kilometres these last two weeks has been uncomfortable. My flatfooted feet can be hellishly awkward at times. Living in China, where most things are made, doesn’t mean I have access to orthopaedic supports or footwear suitable for recovery. I donned my walking boots, last worn in Nepal. They fitted like an Aston Martin in a James Bond movie. As I placed them on, I even had the famous James Bond single hornpiece playing in my head.


 

“Got it.”

“Got it.” That seems to be a standard emotionless reply to many things. Whereas, in the U.K., I’d expect to hear thank you, ta, or wilco (will comply), in China it is usually just “okay”, or, “got it.” I don’t know why ot bothers me. Perhaps it is because it is a non-commital form of later or an evasive response at the best of times. If I had a finger for everytime somebody used “got it” after I put the effort in, and then later found they’d “got it” but clearly done naff all with it, I would have too many fingers to play the entire global supplies of finger-based musical instruments.


 

The world is full of bullshit.

The holidays have passed, and many “got it” messages have been received. Part of me wanted to reply, I’ve “got it” too.  For four days of the holiday, I did somewhere between nothing and miniscule activity levels. My infinitesimal adventures made Ant-Man and co look impossibly large. I did sweet F.A. because I wanted to rest my ankle and joints. The diminutive break involved watching Avengers Endgame and regretting doing so. It was okay. Just okay. A bit long. Binge-watching Who Is America with Sacha Baron-Cohen was a pleasure. Two episodes of Game of Thrones and some walking locally wrapped up an otherwise eventfree escape from work. Some planning for summer, some editing of photos, and some writing filled in the gaps. I did some paperwork too. The kind of things that are semi-important and without a deadline so that you procrastinate over them time and time again. Why complete tomorrow’s work today if it can wait until the next day? What didn’t happen yesterday, doesn’t necessarily need to be completed tomorrow either. These are the unavoidably essential and ineludibly methods used by U.S.A. with regards to climate change. The U.S.’s approach is actually too certain to be a British government model of applocation. Anyway Bond 25 was launched. No title, no plot, no song, no commitment. Proof that Brexit uncertainty and gloom is exiting and entering all walks of life. Trump would say fake news, but he does/does not buy into WikiLeaks and all that. He never used it on his campaign trail, so he would surely not now of it afterwards.


 

How does one measure a fart?

Do we measure the volume of obnoxious gas produced? Do we check its density? How long does a fart last? Do we measure it metres, yards or time? How smelly was it? Is there a scale like the Scolville scale for chilli peppers? Do we measure the volume of sound? How much pressure was released? How far does the fart blanket over a surface area? Is the fart warmer than previous farts? How fast does it rise upwards? Is there any coloration to the gas?

All the right questions concerning Brexit and Trump are to be found in the previous content of course.


 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

Thoughts on courage.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste,

Bravery and tragedy seem to sit hand in hand, side by side. Wherever the former is, we’re usually shown the latter in the news. Tragedy sells. Courage, valour or bravery is not always frontpage news on its own. Superman’s cape draped over a chair sells better than him saving a kitten from a burning oil-tanker out in the worst waves imaginable. Some tragic news brings apathy – because let’s face it, much of the news we see is grim – and often, as is the way of the multimedia age and global connectivity. Sometimes we need to turn a blind eye. There can’t always be happiness and suffering are a worry many carry. The news does not shy away from such tales. It reports in all manners about lust, jealousy, hatred and hostility in equal-ish measures. What we choose to empathise in is up to us, as an individual.

On Monday, in Sìchuān [四川], a region renowned for spice, pandas and Kung Pao chicken, around thirty firefighters were killed. A huge forest fire engulfed them – and none could escape the path of the fireball. 700 brave firefighters had been trying to control the fire for several days. Sichuan is home to Manchester City’s new partnerclub Sìchuān Jiǔniú [四川九牛] who play in the provincial capital of Chengdu. I’ve grown up on a diet of London’s Burning, the TV show, famous for portraying the hardwork and lifestyles of firefighters. I almost became a firefighter myself, but instead, opted to go to university instead. I have firefighter friends. Around 343 fatalities from the 2,996 deaths on ro around September 11th, 2001 were those of the New York Fire & Rescue Services. Firefighters occupy a community of selflessness and put themselves between dangers and the everyday soul trying to survive. Some pay that ultimate sacrifice. On top of that, their mental health is affected and levels of suicide is higher amongst them than the general populous. Firefighters who faced the Grenfell disaster or other such tragic emergencies will surely lose a piece of themselves.

SICHUAN MESSAGE

Humans have always worshiped heroes. They may be Gods, they may be comic book figures, or they may have been very much real. Religions have plentiful heroes and examples of bravery. Some, like Islam, show control as a huge auxiliary to courage, in tackling the devils of life and spirituality.

Some religions and governments push embarrassment and disgust through their guidelines, wording and morals. That’s how stones become a weapon of execution in Brunei, right? Don’t worry, they need witnesses or a confession. Sorry, Brunei but your rules are cuntish at best. How do the private actions of individuals that cause no damage to those around you, affect your leadership or government or religion? It is utter bullshit. The Sultan of Brunei is cunt. I challenge him to a public conversation, face to face. A debate. Let’s get his problems out in the air – and his government’s worries. Come on Mr Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah Mu’izzaddin Waddaulah ibni Al-Marhum Sultan Haji Omar Ali Saifuddien Sa’adul Khairi Waddien Sultan and Yang di-Pertuan of Brunei Darussalam, let’s talk. If you want to experience sedition, I’ll fight for another (woman’s or) man’s cause, with words. Give me my chance to show courage. I’m not writing from boredom but from contentment to your new laws. I hold these law in contempt of humanity. I’ll feel disappointment if you do not reply. I won’t be surprised as anywhere that amputates hands for thefts, brutally punishes minors for petty crimes and completely fails to prevent human trafficking. Their intrays must be overflowing with requests.

I always wonder if such laws are caused by boredom and loneliness or perversed arousal from power over the people. Do they grip panic at allowing too much freedom? Well at least we have Amnesty International, Human Rights campaigners and others to renew our faith in humanity. Again, they are all courageous. All too often they’re fighting for voices in former British protectorates, colonies and places rich in resource. The 159th member of the U.N. are a case in point. Perhaps the U.K. could withdraw the Nepali Gurkha battalion and other military personnel stationed within Seria. But U.K. interests in Brunei probably only stretch as far as having a stopover airport on the way to Oz and New Zealand.

慈故能勇 cí gù néng yǒng loving causes ability brave

 Socrates said a hero is, “a man willing to remain at his post and to defend himself against the enemy without running away” but back then gender inequality was rife. There has been an acceptance and anticipation throughout history of multiple religious saviours and possibly an end to suffering by a higher being, or two. I prefer to think that we alone can save ourselves. Many individuals work in conservation and humanitarian aid. There’re more heroes than we see in movies. They just don’t attract the same desire or curiosity. On a heroic front, Brunei were the first Asian nation to ban shark finning. So, every cloud can have a silver lining – it is all a matter of perspective. Some British Indians hate our new five pounds notes, because Sir Winston Churchill is on there. His willingness to let courageous Ghandi die on a hungerstrike and his general lordly attitude over the “foul race” of Indians and their own fault for “breeding like rabbits”. He wasn’t at all nice to Indians or Bengalis, or Hitler and co (but Adolf certainly deserved it up ‘im). His legacy can be hugely criticised. For me, the Royal family are the same – and Queen Lizzy the 2nd is on one side of the note. That’s history. It is more grey, than black and white. At least with busts, notes, books, documentaries, and more. Otherwise we’d not learn that King of the Belgians, Leopold II of Belgium was a bit of a bastard. Think millions of deaths.

Sir Winston Churchill said of courage many things, but he as both the hero and antihero, cannot be denied his power to compose and express. Courage over risk needs a personal fear to be conquered or managed. There may be deliberation but eventually an intention to act will be made. The courage could be as a perceived good act – or one that is believed to be noble. As noble as a lion or as strong as myself resisting a box of fresh raspberries. Okay, the rapsberries are gone. Not a fine example of strength, but moreone of my own humiliation at not enduring a test. The rage I have in not allowing a punnet of raspberries making it from the fruit shop to my apartment door. Okay, I show no remorse. Just resentment. Okay, not that. Sorrow that the raspberries have gone.

“Courage is rightly esteemed the first of human qualities because it is the quality that guarantees all others.” – Sir Winston Churchill

Emotions are strong things. I have an affection for those who are brave – and selfless. It gives me angst that maybe I’ll be called upon to do my bit. How will I react? I am in awe of thise capable of freezing their minds and cutting away from anger, anguish, annoyance, anxiety, despair, disgust, fear, frustration, grief, horror and shock in order to save other people – especially when they are unfamiliar with such strangers. That curiosity of my mind wonders how their self-confidence dominates pride and creates a social connection that rejects self-interest. The ecstasy of saving life must further create an anticipation of joyful hope. They never seem to panic or show over confidence, these superhero firefighters. They’re like you and me but made of stronger stuff, at the same time. They’re courage in a bottle. The bottle cannt be procured at a cornershop. It is ingrained in years of enthusiastic service. Our gratitude may be given from time to time, but these service people don’t look for merits and commendations. They get their heads down and do their jobs. Euphoria one day. Sadness the next. Depression waiting around every corner. I don’t envy firefighters. For they have a rainbow of emotions to contend with. It’d give me anxiety! I don’t pity their choice of occupation, but I do pity their salaries. Some risks deserve more surprise and trust. I feel guilty that the U.K.’s elected government is too busy wasting money on things that could fund those who put themselves in truly adverse situations. It is an outrage that the masses have such a little voice to show pleasure and show little passion in looking after our own heroes. Just like the environment, we’ll miss it all when it’s gone.

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

A letter to Bernard Halford (1941-2019)

Dear Bernard,

Or should I call you Mr Manchester City?

Where are you? Where will you sit now to watch City? Up there on a blue-tinted cloud or somewhere on the moon waving a blue flag ever so proud? Is there less of a queue at half-time for a pint? Who will listen to your stories?

Firstly, I envy your position within the club and I am proud that you were one of our own for so long. You deserved the crown of Life President at City. It was only the second one handed out. Gary Cook back then made a great speech about it all. I read it in the programme and the website. I bet your face was beaming with your familiar smile. You could have retired at that time, but no your cracked on!

The Blue Moon Rising video catapulted you to many who had not seen you in person. A few scenes in dusty relic rooms here and a few words there. Wasn’t much but we all knew who you were. Not quite Carlos Tevez or Adebayor and their riches, but you had something more. A genuine belief in your club – from an early age to an this early exit. For me it feels like a defeat against Halifax Town in the cup. You never were given the rounds of life’s cup competition that you deserved.

I think some will appreciate that you’ve been with us in the dark days and here in the days when polish was on the purchase orders. You’ve had budgets in red numbers and abusive shouts thrown your way. It can’t have been easy. Forgive those who did it.

I enjoyed seeing your lift the 2011 F.A. Cup. You know why? Because, anyone who sticks with us and City that long, deserves golden moments. You did it for us. You came from Chadderton, via Ardwick, and managed nearly 40 years between Moss Side and east Manchester’s Sportcity-Etihad Campus-CFA-Bradford. Okay, you had to work at Oldham first, but that’s not a bad thing, if it got you to your dream club. That boyhood dream to lift a cup was earned.

You’ve served our club so well. I always recall working with Rhun Owens, then secretary of Aberystwyth Town F.C. and getting a good understanding of all his day to day tasks. He worked tirelessly and for little reward. He took great pride and made sure many letter i’s had dots and t’s had the appropriate level of crossing.

Rhun Owens and yourself are alike. Long-serving, passionate and devoted agents to each club that you supported. You’d both visit the youth and reserve teams and carry the flag for the teams. Rhun Owens was often seen as Mr Aberystwyth Town and had a stand named in his honour. I hope that Manchester City find a little piece of home to apply your moniker. An advocate needs to be known. If ever someone gets the chance that you or Rhun has, they must take it and bleed the colours of the clubs that they follow. They, like you and Rhun, will be part of the lucky few. The things you have seen!

Your legacy includes shaping the official supporters’ clubs, the then Junior Blues, and many grassroot football projects regionally. You’re known at the Academy for more than just signing contracts and paperwork. The Football Association answered your calls all too often – as did Club Historian, Gary James, to which you’ve shared unparalleled tales and history. The Hall of Fame at City has your name for a reason.

Eddie Sparrow, who suffered a loss of his own recently, the poor soul, describes up there as ‘the stand with no name‘ – well by giving it that name, it has a name – and I guess now you’ll be there, with Eddie’s Linda. Loss is a terrible thing and I pass on my thoughts to all who lose someone special. My support is with you. Football has lost something today. I only hope that your example has created other ready to give their time and efforts, as you did. First, we’ll mourn and then we’ll celebrate. We’ll look for your familiar face, as always but you’ll be absent, or sat up on that very-very-very-top-tier with the likes of Nigel Carr, the eternal seasoncard holders of Let’s Not Forget Past Blues, some of my late family and many others. Keep cheering for us down here please. We need it.

The word irreplaceable springs to mind. My condolences to your family, loved ones, friends and all those associated with Manchester City. We’ve been lucky to be blessed by your loyalty and in that we have been really lucky to know you.

Yours in football, love and peace,

 

John Acton

Ruptured Earth.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste

Climate change is a phrase we hear all too often, but do we really listen?

“Our planet, the Earth, is, as far as we know, unique in the universe. It contains life.” David Attenborough –The Living Planet (1984)

Sir David Attenborough is the gentle voice of BBC Wildlife’s successful department. Soon he will present what he terms as an urgent documentary. In spring, BBC will air Climate Change – The Facts. Now facts are often questionable and open to interpretation or accusation of being fake news. I vehemently hate that term: fake news. Bullshit is bullshit and fake news is a tosser denying criticism. The world’s population more than doubled since 1950. Prove me otherwise.

“If we [humans] disappeared overnight, the world would probably be better off.” David Attenborough – The Daily Telegraph (12/11/2005)

Sir David Attenborough is 92 years of age. He could retire. He could kick back and count the letters that follow his name (OM CH CVO CBE FRS FLS FZS FSA FRSGS). He could reflect on his two brothers John and Richard, or sit down and listen to his relative Tom in The Tigger Movie. The Attenborough clan permeate the world of stage and theatre. Sir David’s father had once been the principal of the University College, Leicester. It could be said that his family haven’t done bad. They don’t need to work at Primark or Spar to earn a living. Yet no, Sir David, cracks on. He opens debate, he fuels fires which need dousing. The young Sir David would carry his passion to this day for wildlife and nature. However, in recent years he has become a leading voice for global concern. An unqualified expert. The people’s champion for change.

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“This is the loneliest and coldest place on Earth, the place that is most hostile to life.” David Attenborough – Life in the Freezer (1993)

As a primary school student in the 1980s and warly 1990s, I would always hear about the Greenhouse Effect and Acid Rain. Spray deodorant and cans suddenly became friendlier. Keep Britain Tidy campaigns swept through classrooms and eventually the streets of Manchester. Trees were planted, like what Peter, Dan and I planted with BTCV in Highfield Country Park, Levenshulme. To this day, I take pride in seeing that little difference, everytime I walk there. There was talk of a future with mysterious windpower and cars would all be electricy-powered. As time went on, we’d attend seal clubbing classes, where we learnt that seals had no interest in dance music and nor did we get a technique on how to bash the cute creature’s skulls in, essentially we heard of the horrors people go to to make a jacket and a steak. Almost Everyday Shit™ seemed to be up against things not necessarily in our own paved backywards but effecting man (or woman… or other) around the corner, or further afield. Even as far as Hyde or Belgrade. Suddenly, I found myself in secondary school discussing Not Really Quite Everyday Shit™. Teenage boys had to stop grabbing their flacid cocks and the girls had to stop doing whatever it is that girls do. We were the future generation and hope. It was our responsibility. But, evidentally, we fucked up. Not Really Quite Everyday Shit™ didn’t go away. Now the next generation could be the last generation with a chance to fix it. Sir David Attenborough said so.

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“Ever since we arrived on this planet as a species, we’ve cut them down, dug them up, burnt them and poisoned them.” Sir David Attenborough – The Private Life of Plants (1995)

On present day Earth, we can probably divide people into three camps. Within those camps, there can be further division. Division is important. Camp one is classed as the deniers. They’re useless as a voice and obstructive. They possibly have vested interests in wealth. Camp two are the changers. They need to be heard. They seek to make a difference. Competively they can make a lot of noise against camp one. Camp three are too busy, simply looking after number one, or their families or feel unable to make a different. Camp two often feel that they are too selfish and ignorant. Camp one enjoys their silence. Camp three probably recycle but couldn’t be depended on to ask for recycling bins to be installed. The camps are unclear and people fluctuate from camp to camp, mostly due to discomfort, lack of clarity and by way of reaction to Almost Everyday Shit™ changing to something outlying and worrying.

“It seems sad that on the one hand such exquisite creatures should live out their lives and exhibit their charms only in these wild inhospitable regions. This consideration must surely tell us that all living things were not made for man, many of them have no relation to him, their happiness and enjoyment’s, their loves and hates, their struggles for existence, their vigorous life and early death, would seem to be immediately related to their own well-being and perpetuation alone.” The Malay Archipelago (1869) – Alfred Russel Wallace

We’re aware of plastic bottles as a problem. Everyone is. The bloody things are everywhere. I am guilty too. Sometimes, they’re unavoidable for hygiene reasons. I try my best to deposit them in recycling bins or places that I know someone will take them for recycling. But what if say Theresa May [Insert Prime Minister here], Donald Trump (unlikely) or Xí Jingping [习近平] banned disposable plastic bottles at source. The factories. That’d be the place. Keep them away from people. Permit reusable, and deposit-based larger bottles that must be returned, cleaned and recycled by any means. Take away anything below a certain capacity. Plastic must exit the ecosystem. It needs us to remove it. There are many ways to do so.

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“we can ensure that there is still a place on Earth for birds in all their beauty and variety – if we want to … and surely, we should” The Life of Birds (1998) – Sir David Attenborough

History has led us from the past to the present. It was a simple linear transition, unless you are Tom Cruise and his associates. Is Scientology a religion or cult? [Let’s discuss that one day, hopefully without fear of cyber-attack reprisal] Well, we’re here in the Anthropocene. The age of the human. Homo sapiens. Latin meaning wise man. We’re the only living human species. Things change and species often have a limited time on Earth. One thing we know, is that supersizing a meal at the American Embassy isn’t good for us. But, has that prevented overconsumption and stopped deforestation, because we no longer need a bigger paper bag? Have we learnt that overexploitation of lands leads to deserts and not desserts. How much weight does every fish in the sea have compared with that of the plastic in the seas?

“Instead of controlling the environment for the benefit of the population, perhaps it’s time we control the population to allow the survival of the environment.” The Life of Mammals (2002) – Sir David Attenborough

Opinion matters. I’m with Sir David Attenborough. Individual action is not enough, “real success can only come if there’s a change in our societies and our economics and in our politics”. The world’s temperatures (ask the Mongolians) may be soaring, and we are the likely cause. Planes, cow farts and all that are the debated and often argued origin. We need to think of ways to cut this crap down. Get on Three Seconds by National Geographic. A video with a message that we should think about. It has 287,319 views compared to The Crazy Nastyass Honey Badger’s 90 million plus views. The same honey badger, or one of the 12 subspecies, may be of least concern now on the conservation status but few are seen in Guangdong, and this used to be their ‘hood. Or will we all be another fossilised-brick in the wall, soon enough?

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“The fact that they are solar-powered means that their bodies require only 10% of the energy that mammals of a similar size require.” Life in Cold Blood (2008) – Sir David Attenborough

Perceptions of place matter. If a road is dirty, people and especially lesser-educated people will chuck their crap on it. There’s no snoberry in saying lesser-educated people intended. Some people have never had access to education in the ways that I have – and I for one was never going to go to Harvard or Oxford University, unless they needed a cleaner. This is the way of the world: the haves and have-nots. But, if Billy Billionnaire at Taxbucks Willing Avoidance Trade Specialists Ltd wishes to fund a litter awareness and education programme with the money they denied the state(s) that their Monopoly Conglomerate department sublet, then feel free to do so. Ultimately, your man (woman, transgender or other) on the street will be unaware of that plastic bottle’s effect on the river downstream or the air that they burn it into. We are capable of educating each other.

“If we and the rest of the backboned animals were to disappear overnight, the rest of the world would get on pretty well. But if they were to disappear, the land’s ecosystems would collapse.” Life in the Undergrowth (2005) – Sir David Attenborough

Politics is something we’re told to embrace. The complexity of an electorate and their representatives messing up and not knowing where to go, is seen globally. See, Brexit and the Trump administration’s political circus. So, how do we get those in power to focus on saving us as a species and those other species around the world that we could do with saving? As a British person, I know that writing a strongly worded letter to the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), down at the U.N. isn’t a bad idea. But, if we all did that, we’d need a lot of recycled paper or energy to power those emails. Would they mark the emails as junk? Possibly. Do they deserve the Nobel Peace Prize for 2007? No. Okay, they did, but having to share it with Al Gore, hasn’t changed much, or anything. The inconvenient truth is that we need mass action on a global scale. We need laws and directives to stop bad things and create things of use. Taking inspiration from conferences and internal flights etc doesn’t help. Bringing a duster and a shovel to an earthquake doesn’t work. We need the masses for the masses. We need actions.

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“Every one of these global problems, environmental as well as social becomes more difficult – and ultimately impossible – to solve with ever more people.” How Many People Can Live on Planet Earth? (BBC Horizon, 2009) – Sir David Attenborough

Issues will always be a problem. There aren’t rooms for the 14th Dalai Lama to sit in with the Chinese Administration, or Northern Ireland to talk to the Republic sensibly. Turkey and Syria have beef. Israel needs to open up more. The U.S.A. needs to bring home a few fighter planes. The Church of Croydon may have similar problems with death worshipers from Norway. There’s a can of worms out there when two opposition parties have two ideals or beliefs that can’t flex. For us as a planet, we need to shed our differences and share technologies and ideas. Life is finite or infinite in some religions. I ask, does reincarnation, make you less worried or more? If reincarnation were true, there’d be X amount of total individual lifeforms on Earth, continually coming back as X amount of total individual lifeforms. So, in one generation there may be 6 billion people, but many centuries later there may be 6 billion cockroaches because 6 billion people can no longer inhabit the Earth. Does reincarnation stretch beyond Earth too? Does it include every microbateria or virus?

“I never never want to go home; Because I haven’t got one; Anymore” – There Is a Light That Never Goes Out – The Smiths

Proposed adaptations for humanity cling onto some Buddhist thinkings. We must be fully endowed with higher knowledge and ideal conduct. In other words, stay off Twitter. Get over to Bhutan and let’s learn a thing or two. Would controlling our ever-growing population be a good thing? We humans leapt from needing 200,000 years to hit the 2 billion mark as a species, to 200 years nearly touching 7 billion. Surely, that is far from sustainable. The current growth rate of 1.18% per year is expected to drop. Disease, lack of biodiversity, natural resource exhaustion, ecosystem imbalnces, environmental degradation, ocean acidification, global warming, and ecological crisis are terms that we will hear mre often. Overpopulation will test our mettle. Our resolve will lead to conflicts on a more regular basis as we battle the increasing heat and try our best to survive. If we act now, we can reduce that risk.

 

British scholar Thomas Malthus scribbled down in 1798 that we’d exhaust Earth’s resources for food by the mid-19th century. He was wrong. How wrong? Well he could have been out by a few centuries. Since then, expert after expert have delivered messages and issued warnings. Now with meta-analytics, computer models and sound studies based on huge banks of data, we’re creaking on the abyss. The U.N.’s Food and Agriculture Organisation carry the Latin, fiat panis (“let there be bread”) but there are more Fiat cars being turned off a production line than strategies to ensure bread can be produced sustainably. They say that in the next 30 years we need to produce 70% more food.

“Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty, Sound of their breath fades with the light. I think about the loveless fascination,” Under The Milky Way – The Church

Catastrophies are in motion. Pollen distribution is changing. Glaciers are receding faster than my hairline. The beetles are dying. Bees, the great pollinator of all life, are declining in numbers. The buzz is lessening. Fish are filled with plastic parts and we eat them. The fish are also ingesting our drugs and decanted chemicals into the sea. We’re making them infertile or causing gender imbalances. Every continent is under ATTACK. Every sea and ocean are under ATTACK. Even red crabs get attacked by crazy yellow ants introduced by us. ATTACK. We stamp and kick every stone on Earth and leave our mark, whether intentional or not. We don’t just leave footprints. ATTACK. We carve great big trenches and leave areas vulnerable to landslides, forest fires and things that stop us rolling out red carpets for fire-haired Nicole Kidman. The news will focus on Miley Cyrus losing her home more than that of a village in Syria. ATTACK. We’ve abandoned humanity and embraced celebrity and we’re too blind. Blind, blind, blind, blind, blind… as Talking Heads would sing. Still, a monsoon that washes a village of indiginious people who don’t buy Apple iphones counts less than someone from Yorkshire having to replace a flooded shed’s lawnmower. ATTACK. Right?

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To again quote Sir David Attenborough, “Surely we have a responsibility to leave for future generations a planet that is healthy, inhabitable by all species”. Will there be a generation born now, that when they reach adulthood, will no longer be able to see elephants or tigers in the wild? Why can’t a kid from Guangdong see a Giant Salamander anymore? Where does the boy born in Dongguan go to see a South China Tiger? Why do we have WWF for Nature, EDGE, and why do these kind of things tend to be charity and independently backed? Shouldn’t we learn from Botswana, Norway, Bhutan, Namibia, and Tanzania? Lonely Planet did.

“Trade is a proper and decent relationship, with dignity and respect on both sides.” A Blank on the Map (1971) – Sir David Attenborough

But, why bother? A nuclear blast, an earthquake or a volcano can cause more damage globally than a generation of people. Well, nature is nature. It happens. We’re the benefactors of our destiny, and we’re the keepers of our fate. Why not tidy up where we live? You don’t shit in your own bed, do you? Okay, that has happened to one or two of us and on old age, it may happen – but surely, we never choose to do so. I apologise to any purveyors of scat. Not the jazz singing kind – and not the word meaning go away, or the Indo-Pacific fish, that likely has plastic inside its system, either. Nor is it the Special Combat Assault Team, or the badly named Shrewsbury College of Arts & Technology. Don’t google it. Scatter! Why not?

“To suggest that God specifically created a worm to torture small African children is blasphemy as far as I can see.” Metro interview with Sir David Attenborough (29th Jan 2013)

We have the technology to do something. The wind turbines, the solar panels, the recycling plants, the nuclear fuels to shut down the fossil fuels immediately. We have the education to understand blue carbon, and models to specialise schools into specific fields. Imagine a super city, dedicated totally to environmental protection and species conservation. Every country needs one. Similarly, every country needs to consider that populations matter. If we don’t control ourselves, then nature will. Great extinctions usually work. An ice age here and there or a huge weather change. We can prevent that, if we really want. Or we can believe an all-powerful, all-merciful God created a parasitic worm that will eat through a kid’s eye? Let’s get over our beliefs and start doing something about the things we know about: the world is changing.

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“If we don’t take action, the collapse of our civilisations and the extinction of much of the natural world is on the horizon.” Sir David Attenborough (Climate Change Conference 2018)

Potential effects, very much like the warnings on a cigarette packet, include death. Actually, mass extinction and human total extinction are feasible. Extinction means forever. No more. Gone. Hatari and their pink elephant from Iceland will be happy suddenly. Human sacrifice, mass hysteria, or dogs and cats may love each other, as predicted in Ghostbusters. I wonder if in our last days of humanity that we become perfectly self-awakened, and say the words, in the style of Hinx (Thespian’s go-to-man Dave Bautista) from Spectre, “Shit!” The last human may send a Whatsapp message to an otherwise empty group – and with that the power of humanity may fade forever. Or we could start recycling, reusing, reducing and the other bits we usually ignore. As Tommy in Snatch said, “Proper fucked?”

Of course, I’m no expert. It could all turn out swimmingly.

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再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

The motions of finality.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste,

Last Wednesday evening, I watched the excellent Paul Draper, of Mansun fame, now going solo in Guangzhou’s Mao Livehouse. It was an excellent gig, even if returning around midnight to sunny Dongguan was a tad late. One thing for sure, the hustle and bustle of Guangzhou did not leave me feeling in a wide open space. The venue has great acoustics and with Paul Draper’s dreamy vocals, even if Beijing had left him a little sore of the throat. The experience was made all the better by discovering both new songs, and some old songs that I haven’t heard since they probably came out. I’m no super fan of Mansun or Paul Draper – but this gig was my favourite this year. I’ve been to one gig. That being said, I doubt many bands or artists will put on a better show in 2019.


I am tired of hearing that “you must be the best“. I agree and I disagree. Be your best by all means, but don’t accept that being the best of all others is possible. For me that is chosen by popular opinion. On one hand, one person could be good at organising groups or preaching ideals, on the other hand, that person could also be radical and likely extreme. You wouldn’t want Adolf Hitler organising a charity shop. He’d probably do okay on the bric-a-brac section or the novelty homewares. I wouldn’t trust him with the books or clothing. He had a nasty habit of being a bit selective. Similarly I wouldn’t trust Marie Curie in a charity shop. She’d be too busy messing around with polonium – and not obeying health and safety rules. Hitler would be a terrible co-worker for Curie. He’d no doubt fuel the rumours that she was a Jewish homewrecker. Yes, history has often been full of divisive figures. Something that you couldn’t say about Michael Jackson, without fear of a fan getting upset, until recently. Now old M.J.J. the noseless is fair game. Him being dead makes him an easy target, much like the poor boys he probably fiddled with.

So, why should we be the best? To be tainted by our weakness and our mistakes? To fall down on our swords? Does society spit out the mediocre and forget what we offer? Is there fault in wanting to live a simple peaceful live? Are we either astronauts, astronomers or stargazers without need of answers? If a dream is unspoken, did anyone dream it?

I’m often asked why I like teaching. “Hey Mr John, why do you like teaching?” The answers I give are not always the same but usually I say something like, “Ugh. I dunno.” I want to be the one who makes the shy kid speak. I wouldn’t mind being the one who makes the noisy kid pay attention. If someone can make the dreamer join in, why can’t it be me? If you can’t impart teamwork where selfishness was, then I will do it. I like to defrost cold situations. We can all be the one who says hello to everyone, from the cleaners to the parents to the secretary to the delivery man to the security guard and the bosses.

It is important that in teaching, and for the bigger society, that we don’t create a sense of inferiority. Yes, there will always be outstanding people and we need them. We need the differences in ability, and we need the inability in order to thrive. Our faults can be assets. Without negative experiences or bad times, division, or difference, we’d not have Joy Division, Radiohead or the lyrics of Paul Draper, singing Jealousy is a powerful emotion. We need less division and fear of difference. Events in Christchurch this week tell us that. Don’t fear better, don’t fear religions, just accept that difference is wonderful. I take pride in my hometown and the man who stood outside a Levenshulme mosque with a message of peace. Yes, he garnished some publicity, but that furthered his message and no doubt reached the people of communities like Christchurch and beyond. The real people no doubt felt the support. The haters probably struggled and held conflict in their hearts. For every message of love, we can win. Can’t get fairer than that, right?

“To destroy someone, you must observe these rules; At number one; Everybody’s got their weakness; Get people on your side.”
Paul Draper – Friends Make the Worst Enemies

During the hike in Nepal, it gave me a feeling of community and harmony unfelt before. Along the way many single people, groups and couples enjoyed guidance from experienced guides and porters. These local experts are well-trained, respected and hard-working. They don’t cut corners. They work safely and never hurry their clients. You’re their guest and for a moment you are treated just as one of the family. They extend their hands to stragglers and solo-trekkers alike. Do you need a porter? Maybe you like the challenge. Maybe you want a luxury and to have someone lug your backpack to leave you free to explore a little more. The benefits of the guides and porters far outweigh not having assistance. They know the weather. They know the altitude and signs of sickness, and how to acclimatize more carefully. They’re really honest people too – but I’m sure a bad apple is amongst the cart. I’d trust them though. Some pay their porters or guides 2,000-2,500 NPRs per day. Some pay their hired hands’ accommodation and food on top. They’re all fair about their fare from day one. They even meet with clients in advance and explain their terrains. Most guides speak English – and many have learnt Korean, Chinese, Spanish and French. They’re a talented bunch. Having a guide is not necessary but even from someone who twice set out on a challenge without a guide, I would in future throw serious consideration to a guided tour. Maybe in the future Manaslu, Chitwan and Annapurna will call me.


10th February 2019

On leaving Pheriche, we rounded the pathways through Pangboche and looked for a place to stay. No rooms at the inn, and with enough sunlight to carry on, we walked forward to Deboche. With light fading, we arrived into a warm room, a bright view and the setting sun casting purple tints over the surrounding mountain tops. The Paradise Lodge made a a good mushroom pizza and for me Dal Baht wasn’t on a list of foods to eat. The lodge, a stone affair with wooden interiors and a row of protruding beachhut style rooms was far from a grey house. The blue and white paints, and dark green trims made it feel very homely and traditional.

The following morning, we walked the short climb up to Tangboche, and after viewing the grand monastery we descenced to Punkitenga. Here we ate lunch, before walking (mostly) upwards until Namche Bazaar. The culmination of the journey was now in our hearts. The motions of finality were obvious. Less photographs, more savouring of the views and moments and even a tear in they eye, here and there. On reaching a crest of the footpath, my heart vowed to return, as it had done two years previously. One day, I’ll put the boot in, in a hard way. The next walk will be longer. I can feel it. There is a force calling me. The fat lump in my head is erupting in a storm of electronic signals and they all point to a new voyage of discovery in Nepal. Anyone want to join me?

Probably, to be continued….


A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor. With this idea in mind, a challenge needs to be on the horizon. Always have something to look forwards to. There are things people want, and things people need, to keep their heads up. On damaging an ankle ligament this last week, I am now looking at deferring my attempt at the Spartan Race. I am now able to move the opportunity in Hong Kong, during June, to a later date in Shenzhen, possibly October. It may or may not be wise. I need to think it over. The right ankle has been strapped up for three days now. It feels more painful and sharp than before. The swelling has dropped from balloon-like levels to just plain bumpy. Instead of running, Muay Thai or football this week, I am contemplating a few hours of uplifting Morecambe & Wise on television. I was feeling my heart run slow, so I needed something fortifyingly enriching. Why wallow in shit when you can lay down and eat fine grapes?

“All men are fools, and what makes them so is having beauty like what I have got.”
Glenda Jackson, Morecambe & Wise Show

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā

To be determined.

你好/ Ní hǎo / Nín hǎo / Hello / How do / S’mae / Namaste,

https://sunyatsens.com/

I opted not to take headphones with me, or earphones for the trek around Nepal. The soundtrack would be life and nature. However, if I was to take one song on that journey, then I’d struggle. Today, I watched the video of Ting Bu Dong by Sun Yat Sens. The track opens with producer Ryan Chambers on the didgeridoo. Throughout the track he continues flitting between this instrument, an acoustic guitar and backing vocals. Sometimes he manages two of the three. Talented bugger! Some of us can’t even play the spoons. The vocals kick in from Chris Bradshaw, who puts a J between his names. It could mean juggernaut or John, as in Lennon, I don’t know. Rob Laughlin on base, alongside Eric Charette on drums and a session guitarist in Brandane Mullane form the band’s entirety. The reason that I namedrop these guys, because somehow, somewhere and someday these boys could reach high. They’ve evolved since I first watched them at Magic Island Music Festival back in December 2016. They’ve gone from a group capable of pub gigs, to a professional looking, well-marketed and confident outfit. They’re more A-Team than A-list still. That’s a good place to be. With videography by the talented Ryan and drone footage, alongside their graphic design they can do anything they want.

The dreamy didgeridoo-opening has a touch of This Garden by The Levellers, and I’m feeling a touch of Dido in there. It has the played down nature of early Oasis-acoustic tracks without the overpowering aggression of a cocksure Gallagher on board. I’m expecting, “Today is gonna be the day…” but instead the song smashes in some Chinese. Why not? The reggae-indie rap is dreamy. The chorus is clear and takes me back to Nepal on that last walk. Songs that unlock memories and emotion are powerful things. The video showcases life in China, a wandering figure and gives your imagination an opportunity to test itself. Sun Yat Sens and their previous song WeChat was more Feeder and jolliness in style. My students feature somewhere in there around the minute mark. I hope that we all see and hear more of this band soon.

#15 – PYRAMID – GORAK SHEP 1300 – EVEREST BASE CAMP – GORAK SHEP 1800 ~ 12km

 

8th February 2019

We set out from Pyramid (5050m / 16,568ft) to Gorakshep (5100m) and then onwards to EBC (5360m). On Earth’s lands there isn’t much surface area above us at this point. The upper points above 7,000ft (2133m) is only about 7% of the total of Earth’s surface. 29.2% of Earth has land above sea level or uncovered by lakes and rovers. Our oblate spheroid of a planet has bumpy bits. The Himalayas (China/Nepal/India)) with the Karakoram range (China and Pakistan) are the only places to see peaks over 8000m. Only Bhutan, Kyrgyzstan, Afghanistan and Tajikistan (a country I know nothing about) can be added to those countries for mountains over 7000m. Going to other countries and looking for big mountains is near pointless. Aconcagua (6962m) in the Andes (Argentina) is as close as you will get. Anyway I now found myself above 5164m for a night’s sleep. The highest that I have ever snoozed.

If Lobuche is bleak, then Gorakshep could have meant shithole in English. The smooth mountain top of Kalapatthar hovers over the lakebed that sits by Gorakshep. We arrived, ditched our things at the Buddha Lodge, ate a late lunch and then started the Everest Base Camp trek. The final leg towards a hidden shadow beneath Everest. The lodges are mostly supply drops and shelters. There is discarded waste in piles, banners and tents ripped to shreds scattered here and there. Armageddon refused to stop in Gorakshep on account of it being totally dilapidated and uninhabitable.

The worst night’s sleep ever followed. Firstly, the windows were rattling amd pccasionally flying open. Cracks in some panes threatened to explode. The roof was rattling. Each room had a temperature lower than -25°C. Snow slipped through the edges of the window frames. The lodge shook with each gust. Worse still – we were running out of yak shit. The main lounge room was starting to cool. As I lay my head down headaches came and went. Even if I wanted to descend downwards, this was not the weather to open any doors.

In the lodge a group of three from the U.K. with their The Baton flag slept, alongside Rhys, Al and Spanish Albert. Everyone seemed to endure a restless night of anti-sleep. Hope of making ot through a night without the roof blowing off was broken up by regular piss breaks to the toilet at the end of the cold corridor. The frozen stinking cesspit in the ceramic western toilet was perhaps the warmest thing for several kilometres.

The great thing about having a sleeping bag comfortable to -25°C is that when it finally teeters over that temperature limit, you’re still a little warm. An extra blanket on top helped. The noise of the howling winds did not. Gritty frozen grains pounded the windows outside. It seemed that the outside desperately wanted to be inside. Sporadically the dirt of the outside world slapped the windows like bullets being fired from a gun.


9th February 2019

Morning arrived. Breakfast was devoured. We set out.

Kala Patthar is 5,545 metres (18,192 ft). It might as well be higher. It is no mean feat to get to the top and capture a panoramic view of the Khumbu glacier like all the postcard shops have obtained. A panoramic sweep of clouds in all directions and zero visibility doesn’t sell the same. To quote trekker Rhys from Cardiff, “Well it is the mountains and that means clouds.” It is what it is. Simple. Black rock, as Kala Patthar means in Hindi, might well just translate as bleak rock. I read somewhere that the ‘The world’s highest webcam, Mount Everest webcam, was located here’ on Kala Patthar. In those clouds, you could lose anything – including life! No prayer flags were visible yet needed. No mountain climbing permit was required – making this the highest point to scramble without license to do so.

The Khumbu glacier is supposed, by scientists, to have formed in the last Great Ice Age. That was around 500,000 years ago. On reaching Lobuche (4910m), my legs were feeling equally as old. The Khumbu region stretches from Namche Bazar out to Thame in the west and Gokyo. Gorak Shep, and Chukung mark the northern and western areas.  The Khumbu subregion is a third of the region known as the closely named Khambu. The lowest point is 3,300m high around Lukla. Visibility was so low, that my feet were barely in sight. The gamble and decision to stay an extra day was not appealing. With heavy snow forecast, we headed down – our target, “as far as we can go.” Well, after struggling over the open boulder and rocks fields lining the banks of glacial death below, we dropped into a valley leading towards the Pyramid. We’d later show some pretty bad windburn on our skin – and thankfully we escaped anything more serious.

Having sought cover just before lunchtime, we had cut a path through deep snowdrifts and found shelter. We were the only ones at the Pyramid International Laboratory/Observatory. We hadn’t intended to stay again but we had no choice. After an hour a Chinese man and his porter/guide joined us. They said they were close to death out there. It was believable and no embroidery on their part. Barely two hours later and the blizzard vanished. The whiteout faded to a grey unsettling day. We chilled out in the warm lounge watching cricket, volleyball and eating too much. It passed the time before bedtime. Outside did not appeal to us.

#16 GORAK SHEP – PYRAMID ~ 10km

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10th February 2019

The walk continued as in the spirits of each day before. It was always about just going forwards, and not rushing. Some loose targets and aims were handy but they were never set in concrete. The journey was to be lived. The destination was just for inspiration. Some target Everest Base Camp for status, spirituality or homage. Some push themselves as far as they can go. Some want to do their best. There had never been a race to get anywhere and likewise we weren’t descending fast for the sake of it.

Within an hour, I did not think that I could walk any more. My head was pounding at the rear and I was walking so slow, that deep down I was beginning to worry. Fatigue had turned to exhausation and my mental condition was slipping to the negative. Ten minutes after passing Ishwor, Srirang and Livia on their way up, I had to stop. Here the cough that had been niggling me for nearly two weeks began to rasp at my throat. I tried to catch my breath. A moment later, I was staring at my breakfast on the floor. My nose stang. I smelled terrible. My mouth tasted like a yak’s arse. After a few moments of composure, I explained to Maria we must head down fast – but steadily and for her to keep an eye on me. Barely an hour later and I felt great – reinvigorated and fully oxygenated. Resurrection in a Buddhist land is possible afterall.

We soon appeared at the tombs and monuments, standing tall under a sunlit sky. The spiritual air of the location fell away as we descended the pathway to Thukla. Here we continued over the glacial rover’s stepping stones, banked left and followed a pebble-stoned pathway into the valley around Pheriche (4371m).

I was told by many not to stay at Pheriche when doing this trekking route. It sits deep in the shadows of the mountains around it and on a cloudy day, little light makes it to the village. This day it was basked in splendid sunshine. The Tsola River flowed beneath it. The Himalayan Rescue Association (HRA) are based here but we dodn’t stop by. We spent an hour hiding from yaks, by squating by a frozen stream as they passed by and then doubled back. Eventually we joined a British couple, their guide and porter to pass by. The top end of Pheriche village seemed to have a melting-yet-dangerously-frozen-river-road down the middle. That had to be negotiated slowly. Empty buckwheat and potato fields lined the pathways. Following the top end of the village a few kilometres before the lower village appeared. The neighbours there must be quite fit.

Arriving at Deboche (3820m) today we had dropped about 1230m. That’s 1.23km (4053 feet – about 7/10 of a mile). Burj Khalifa is the tallest building at 828m (2717’) tall. It had taken just a few hours. The walk up had been broken down.

#17 0900 PYRAMID – 1600 DEBOCHE; #18 0930 DEBOCHE – NAMCHE BAZAR 1700: ~ 40km
#19 NAMCHE BAZAR – LUKLA ~ 21km
#20 LUKLA: ~ 4km

More to follow.

 

再见/ Zài jiàn / Bài bài / Ta’ra / Goodbye / Hwyl Fawr / Dhanyabaad / Alavidā