Summer ’25: VIII – “Hello A.C., my old friend…”

Guangdong didn’t miss me. Nor I missed Guangdong. The mosquito feeding service resumed, probably, as the train doors slid open. “Attack! Attack! Attack!”

Luofushan is a big bulging expanse of subtropical mountain. Swallowed by managed parkland,  concrete and stone passages loop and weave its sides. Temples, museums, and a cable-car ropeway dot the landscape amongst entertainment options like a jungle chair ride and multiple fish food vending machines. Huizhou’s economy is further boosted by passionfruit and banana sales at the gate. Cold tofu desserts add other sweet options. Water is essential. The big expanse commands your appetite.

In regards of appetite, a giant chicken restaurant, for consumption of regular-sized roast chickens was the final stop of the day. The playground, climbing walls, balance wires, and swings afterwards tested hands and feet, and possibly full bellies too. A decent enough end to a day of bug-spotting (including bee eggs for sale – as food). The stadium-sized chicken restaurant was stupendously busy and barely a quarter of it was open. Must avoid a fully-booked attendance.

“No one can construct for you the bridge upon which precisely you must cross the stream of life, no one but you yourself alone.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, otrovert

Heated up, overly tired, and distracted, we headed up GaoBangShan again. My mood was odd, angry (and not just at City losing to Spurs), and I should not have gone out. The distant lightning storm to the west was not just a metaphor. I really was starting to feel upset that soon I’d be leaving to the U.K. My emotions and behaviour were inexcusable. Hot heads can’t cool in heat. I had to apologise for being petty and silly.

“When anger rises, think of the consequences.” – Confucius (孔子Kǒngzǐ)

Time slipped away fast and no sooner had I arrived back in Guangdong, it seemed I was on a plane heading for Manchester, via Cairo. Time really is precious.

“How did it get so late so soon? Its night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?” – Dr. Seuss, controversial author.

Summer ’25: 37:13 of railway travels.

There:

0838 Huiyang > Guangzhou South 1:18
1057 GZ South > Yangshuo 2:34

1321 Yangshuo > Guiyang North 3:07

1533 Guiyang East > Chengdu East 3:45

0909 Chengdu East > Guangtong 6:24
1622 Guangtong > Dali 1:08

1147 Dali > Shangri-la 4:19

22:35

And back again:

1200 Shangri-la > Dali 2:15

1413 Dali > Nanning 6:34

1128 Nanning > Guangzhou South 2:45
1430 GZ South > Huiyang 1:20

14:38

Divided We Fall?

Never once heard a left-wing leaning leftie say the Union Flag is offensive to anyone. Heard a few republicans call for the abolition of the monarchy and the U.K. flag, and a few Welsh ask for an update to include Yr Draig Goch in it. Honestly, every time I see a post about the U.K.’s Union Flag causing offense to Muslims, and it usually is Muslims, it annoys me. Social media posts, of this hateful kind, being shared look to divide people. Nobody is offended by that U.K. flag. Proud of the flag? Less and less, yes. It represents the majority, born here or drawn here. Perhaps, minorities would display it with pride if the U.K. was a little more friendly.

So, where’s it all coming from? Decades of stretching the haves from the have nots? Year upon years of a widening gap between salaries and costs of living? Or, perhaps tge rich get richer and the poor get poorer? That old cliche. In 32 years since 1990, the top 1% of the U.K. billionaires have seen their wealth grow tenfold. That collective wealth is almost exclusively out of circulation and likely adding to their ability to pull in more pennies. In 2024, according to Oxfam, U.K. billionaires gained £35 million a day. Is that £182 billion a year fair? 70% of the population barely equates the top 1% of the U.K.

Mind the gap. Income inequality may remain constant but the wealth of the richest and poorest is a chasm. Inherited wealth over generations may help the rich keep their titles and banks healthy. The poorest leave behind little and in many cases can’t even add gravestones. Disproportionate tax policies supporting the well-to-do through low taxation of dividends and capital gains benefit the wealthy. Inner city kids have no chance. Should we accept our place? Fodder for Lord Amazon and Co.?

Is there truth in Russia pushing immigration towards the U.K.? Well, many Ukrainians have sought sanctuary in Britain. Wars in Syria, Palestine, Yemen, and unrest across other global regions will always add a demand to find safer shores. Gangs exploiting trafficking for profit and increased ability to find weaknesses in U.K. laws following Britain’s exit from the European Union have certainly raised numbers.

The Royal National Lifeboat Institution (R.N.L.I.) are lifesavers. Volunteers who respond to sea emergencies and pluck the needy from near-certain death. They even rescue sheep and goats from time to time. Life is precious. Their sole purpose: to save lives at sea. A combined crew of 9,800 and 2,000 or so support staff make that possible. Since the 4th of March 1824, the orange livery of search and rescue have been around British and Irish waters, doing their incredible humanitarian work. Never discriminating. I always thought that’s how the U.K. should be viewed: a place of sanctuary and love for life. Perhaps I was naive and should have laughed at the picture of the RNLI boat full of Muslim-looking men heading for the Dover cliffs?

Then again, my Mam has always taught me not to be a knobhead.


When they came for the asylum seekers, I remained quiet; I wasn’t an asylum seeker.

When they came for the transgenders, I stayed silent; I wasn’t transgender.

When they came for the Free Palestine supporters, I kept my mouth closed; I wasn’t a Free Palestine supporter.

When they came for the free press, I didn’t utter a word; I did not write for the free press.

When they came to add internet censorship, I felt conflicted and hid; I did not act against them.

When they came for the library bookshelves, I stood tall and defiant…




Inspired by German Lutheran pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984) and his words below (English and German)

When the Nazis came for the communists,
I kept quiet; I wasn’t a communist.

When they came for the trade unionists, I kept quiet;
I wasn’t a trade unionist.

When they locked up the social democrats, I kept quiet;
I wasn’t a social democrat.

When they locked up the Jews, I kept quiet;
I wasn’t a Jew.

When they came for me, there was no one left to protest.



Als die Nazis die Kommunisten holten,
habe ich geschwiegen; ich war ja kein Kommunist.

Als sie die Gewerkschafter holten, habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Gewerkschafter.

Als sie die Sozialdemokraten einsperrten, habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Sozialdemokrat.

Als sie die Juden einsperrten, habe ich geschwiegen;
ich war ja kein Jude.

Als sie mich holten, gab es keinen mehr, der protestieren konnte.



Frustration.

Sometimes, it is easy to want to kick back. To give up. To give in. Buckle under pressure. To push it all away and walk off. Head away from everything. The problem is that it matters. And, when it matters, it really matters.

You can’t switch off from it. There is no miraculous light switch, with an option to plunge away that which matters. Nor would you want it to be that simple. Although, a spot of simplification may make a huge difference. Frustrating as it is, burying your head in the sand just wastes time and brings about a tumbling cascade of further frustration.

No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy, or a decorator, or a trip away. The only certainty in life is death. Everything else is hung on tiny, easily disturbed strings. These variables throw up challenges, barriers, and realisations. They shape expectations and twist the optimistic to the realistic. Deep down the cinders of pessimism, ebb, and flow, waiting for their time to shine. The advice is almost always: don’t let it.

That exclusive advice may seem out of reach. That’s the beauty of pain and the distorted view of solutions: we feel it. Frustration can be overcome. It may not seem that way. Finding your channel out of a stormy ocean is key. Believe. A spot of resilience goes a long way.