加油曼城! C’MON CITY!

2024 will be a year of tidying, organising and shuffling. The below comes from a former page. It is now a post, archived, as my involvement with Shenzhen Blues has ended.

SHENZHEN BLUES 深圳曼城官方球迷会

First Official MCFC Supporters Club in Mainland China 中国内地首家曼城官方认证球迷会 [00164]

Our contact details: (feel free to drop us a line… 欢迎联络, 给我们留言…)

WeChat/Weibo: ShenzhenBluesTwitter: Shenzhen_Blues / www.shenzhenblues.cn / contactus@shenzhenblues.cn / Facebook: SZblues


(你可以躺在床上看比赛/ Watch the game in your bed)

现在来点完全不同的东西吧…  AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT…

加我们项目负责成员的微信. Wechat :  our team members who can assist you


们是曼城 / WE ARE CITY

1深圳曼城球迷会将会继续分享全中国曼城球迷的各种照片和故事。它不仅是一个展现深圳球迷,更是展现世界所有球迷风采的同好基地。

Shenzhen Blues will share any photos and stories from City fans throughout China. It is a fanzine for all our fans and not just those in Shenzhen.

请分享我们深圳曼城球迷会的官方微信公众号或为它点赞。

Please like and share our official wechat account.
我们在尽力用中英双语呈现出更多信息

We try to have translated materials in English and/or Chinese.

也一定会有过去和现在的各种相关照片

There are always photographs from the past and present.

重要的信息会在这个群里发布,也会有其他部分相关信息

Important information is shared through this channel. There are often other little bits of interest too.

您也可以通过订阅的方式获取第一手的资料,欢迎各位订阅。

You can submit articles, photos or materials too. Please feel free to do so.

SZB BANNER

REALLY EASTLANDS M.C.O.S.C. in CHINA

SHARE YOUR O.S.C.

球迷会名称/Club name: / 球迷会联系方式/Club contacts:
微博或其他社交媒体链接/Weibo or social media links: / 微信账号/Wechat account:
关于我们/About us: / 最后,请分享一些照片。/Finally, please share some photos.
衷心感谢你们/THANK YOU KINDLY. 爱与和平。Peace and love.

SHENZHEN BLUES 深圳曼城官方球迷会

First Official MCFC Supporters Club in Mainland China 中国内地首家曼城官方认证球迷会 [00164]

Shenzhen was the location for the Blues friendly against Borussia Dortmund, which allowed supporters in the region to enjoy much more than the live matchday experience.

The tour was the perfect opportunity for the Club to connect with their Chinese fans and to celebrate this the Shenzhen Blues hosted a special event at their base – McCawley’s Irish Pub.

Tosin Adarabioyo, Angelino, Willy Caballero and Jason Denayer were the guests of honour as they took part in a Q&A and signing session.

The event carried extra significance as the Hong Kong and Melbourne branches were also in attendance as well as participants from City Football Schools’ project in Shenzhen, which made for a memorable coming together of City fans around the world.

With the Capital One Cup on display, supporters had a rare opportunity to capture a selfie with the famous trophy, while our Hong Kong branch’s support was recognised as they were presented with a commemorative plaque from Club Ambassador and City legend, Mike Summerbee.

Our Melbourne branch were an ever present during pre-season, and for member Wade Whitwell, the Shenzhen event topped off an incredible trip following the Blues. He said: “Shenzhen was a highlight of the pre-season tour for me. The great atmosphere in McCawley’s and sharing time with other Australians, the Hong Kong branch, the Shenzhen Blues and those from Manchester City made the trip to China so worthwhile.”

Similarly, Martin NG, the Hong Kong Branch Secretary, was delighted to have the opportunity to meet his City heroes.

“I feel very happy and proud to have taken part in this event and it was great to meet the players, who were all very nice”, he added.

You can see all the action from the event on Inside City 201.

See more: BlueMoon Forum (City China and SZBs post)


Xi’an: The Original Home of Football? Think Cuju (蹴鞠)

球迷会名称/Club name: 西安曼城球迷会 Xi’an Manchester City fans Association Club

球迷会联系方式/Club contacts: 阿圭罗的小媳妇儿 [Aguero’s Wife]

微博或其他社交媒体链接/Weibo or social media links: 西安曼城球迷会(微博名)
微信账号/Wechat account: 西安曼城球迷会(公众号)

关于我们/About us: 古称长安。长安城作为古代第一个人口破百万的国际化大都市,北濒渭河,南依秦岭,八水润长安。在这座古老的城市里,住着一群有着蓝色信仰的人们,这群人的存在给这座城市注入了新的活力,这就是我们——西安曼城球迷会。

不论你是土生土长的西安人,还是身在西安的异乡人,亦或是远在他乡的西安乡党,只要你信仰蓝月,我们都向你敞开怀抱。

Xi’an, is an ancient town, once known as Chang’an. Xi’an was one of the Four Great Ancient Capitals.
Xi’an is the original starting point of the Silk Road. Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s Terracotta Army is based here. Bordered to the north by the Weihe River, the southern Qinling Mountains and known for 8 rivers, the city has great diversity and history. The sky blue and white faith of City reached Xi’an in modern times and adds vitality to a City mostly know for its great food and castle walls. Whether you are a native to Xi’an, or a visitor to Xi’an, Xi’an’s OSC opens their arms to meet you and your love for the Blue Moon. No reds allowed.

Expect to eat: Roujiamo Chinese Hamburger (肉夹馍); Liangpi (凉皮); Paomo Mutton, beef, and Bread Pieces in Soup (羊肉泡馍); Biang Biang Noodles (油泼扯面); Jinggao Steamed rice cake stuffed with honey dates and black beans (甑糕).

Expect to see: Fortifications of Xi’an & Xi’an City Wall (西安城墙); Xi’an Bell Tower (西安钟楼); the Drum Tower of Xi’an (西安鼓楼); Mount Li (骊山); Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor (Qin Shi Huang) (秦始皇陵); Terracotta Army (兵马俑); Shaanxi Galaxy (陕西银河); Shaanxi Guoli F.C. (陕西国力)Shaanxi Renhe Commercial Chanba F.C. (陕西人和商业浐灞)Shaanxi Dongsheng (陕西东盛); Xi’an Evening News (西安晚报); Qinqiang opera (乱弹).
Did you know? Arthur Gostick Shorrock [from Blackburn, Lancashire, England] and Moir Duncan founded the Sianfu Mission in 1892.

U.K. Twin cities & Towns: Edinburgh, Bury St. Edmunds & Birmingham

爱与和平/Peace and love


DONGGUAN EASTLANDS – MANCHESTER CITY O.S.C.

WE’RE REALLY HERE.

WHERE DO WE MEET? We have a junior club – and we have the more senior options. Sometimes we gather at Irene’s Bar (Dongguan); Murray’s Irish Pub (Dongcheng, Dongguan) & road trips to join the Shenzhen Blues, Huizhou Blues or Guangzhou Blues. Actually, there’re just two of us for now.

WHEN DO WE MEET? Please contact acton28 on WeChat.

WHO ARE WE? Perhaps the smallest collective of Manchester City fans in China, so far.

WHY HAVE A CITY O.S.C. IN DONGUAN? Dongguan is a massive City of around 10 million people and is dominated by basketball, however football is growing. The aim of Dongguan Eastlands is to raise attention of Manchester City and football in general. At the end of the day, build it and they will come. There is no harm in trying. Like Manchester’s past, this city of Dongguan is industrial. Busy worker bees are everywhere.

WHEN WERE WE FOUNDED? On hold. Membership problems.

NOT COMING SOON


Official WeChat: 曼城足球俱乐部 mcfcofficial / Official website: http://www.mancity.com / https://cn.mancity.com/

一线队赛程 / Fixtures

All my people, right here, right now, d’ya know what I mean?

Clammiest Climate?

Sweltering heat bombarded in through the air-conditioned doorway. Since departing Mancunia, fresh air hadn’t been experienced for the best part of a day. The Survivor was the title of an inflight movie, but instead of a pugilist’s survival at a Nazi concentration camp, it was not an instruction to survive humidity. Not that the two should ever be appropriate in comparison.

Guangzhou’s airport felt chaotic and unwelcoming, even at 11pm. The fingerprinting machines didn’t appear to work. After 4 attempts on different machines, I gave up. I declared my health and grabbed the necessary health code to allow me through a third checkpoint. At the fourth, I filled in the necessary immigration card and answered a few questions as I crossed into China. I picked up my backpack and noted that the top section was open. Some things had been removed. Later, I’d contact the airline and insurance company. At just before midnight, I didn’t fancy trying pigeon Chinese to speak to the Police or airport security.

As it was so late, the subway railway was closed. I gambled on a bus and managed to get to Tianhe Square, a 30-minute walk from Yicheng Hotel and Guangzhou East railway station. Without a local mobile number or WiFi access, I managed to get to the hotel and get my head down by 2.30 am. The relentless heat, a far cry from the fresh and cool Mancunian air I’d left behind. It seemed that Emirates Airways had whisked me away, with extra legroom, to a pressure cooker. Far from the warm kitchen in Manchester, where Mum and Paul prepared dinner, I’d left 18°C clear-ish skies for hostile hours of heat.

The calm air-conditioned flight featuring Fisherman’s Friends 2: One and All. Filled with beautifully shot scenes, witty lines, and emotionally energetic stories, the movie clasps attention like the Guangzhou weather suffocates breathing of those used to chillier climes. The things we do for hugs.

China Travels: Recap.

“It’s coming home. It’s coming home. Football’s coming home.” – England football chant during the Women’s European Cup.

There has been a huge gap since travel has been possible and plausible. Never spending more than a few days in Huizhou, Shenzhen, and just hours in Zhongshan since October 2021 had been quite challenging. Travel, during 2021 and 2022, in Guangdong was unthinkable. The suffocation of humidity and toasting heat above thirty-five Celsius seemingly spelled death for me. Unthinkable. I have zero tolerance to being baked alive.

I’ve been blessed since February 2014. I’ve stepped from my comfort zone in UK living and managed to live abroad for over 8 years. Not every year has had a roasting summer. With just summer 2020 spent in Dongguan, owing to an 8 day change of employer, I’ve not had to endure too many hot days. The air conditioner had never been far away. Green parks like Dalingshan Forest Park and Tongsha wetlands have proved useful for distraction. Summer 2022 wasn’t like that. I found myself on crutches and once again trapped in Guangdong, being cooked. Far from other provinces and cooler ait.

Northern China stretches far and wide from west to east and vice versa. Here, journeys into Ningxia province have proved adventurous. Inner Mongolia and the chills of Heilongjiang have been a stark contrast to the warm southern regions. Gansu was a pleasant surprise. The stifling summer heat, broken by northern breezes and a dryer sunshine.

Through the coastal east and lands of Nanjing, Shanghai and Suzhou, I’ve managed a few looks at a variety of urban and green vistas. Touching down in Shandong and Qingdao was a spiritual connection I welcomed. Thanks, Granddad George Acton, for making me curious about that naval city you once stayed within. The trip there proved colourful and now brings fond memories.

Western China, especially Yunnan, has warmed my heart and claimed my love. Sichuan and Qinghai have equally gripped my passion for the outdoors. Those vast mountain landscapes and green pockets and valleys could fuel a thousand stories. Each one with tales and wilderness to inspire.

In the core of China, Hunan was varied in appearance and home to the mighty Zhangjiajie Nature Park. Forget it being the backdrop to James Cameron’s blue movie Avatar! It’s stunning for millions of other reasons. Xi’an proved an intense city surrounded by history and bathed in glorious culture. Shaanxi and Shanxi provinces each had many highlights.

Guangdong and Guangxi are side by side, and Fujian sits to the east of the former. Here, weekends and short breaks have been spent. Vietnamese coffees, seafood, and wanders along coastlines have gripped attention. All within a short distance of Dongguan and very much accessible before the Covid-19 pandemic.

Of course no trip to China is complete without swinging by modern day capital Beijing. Comedic travel and radio presenter Karl Pilkington visited there in a few episodes of An Idiot Abroad. Like his views, I don’t really like the capital city. How a city of that size doesn’t have a plethora of top flight football teams, or a heartbeat like many other capitals I’ve visited is beyond me. It felt very much like visiting how I imagine North Korea to be. Not my kind of place. Gridlock, grid lines and authoritarian concrete landscapes are a travel turn off. There are historic gems but how much has been remade is open to debate. Even the Great Wall looks too new. Apart from the wild bits. They’re glorious!

Macau, I could live without. It’s okay for a few hours, but not my kind of place. Hong Kong was the global city of cities, but times have changed, and I suspect so has Hong Kong. Many refer to it as just another Chinese city, now lacking its once famed uniqueness. The velodrome, mountain trails, and Clockenflap music festivals are just a few of the many highlights.

One day, I hope to visit Tibet and Xinjiang. For now, those journeys remain on a to-do list. Never say never. And, in September 2022, I found myself back in the UK. I didn’t think I would return to China so soon. The border reopened to tourism and many visa types in March 2023. That change and another more needy necessity led me back to the charms of the People’s Republic of China. This large swathe of lands often offers many attractions still. Would I move back? Never say never. Right now? No.

Guangzhou: WET.

The thing about Guangzhou in spring is it’s wet. The city, particularly around green Tianhe, is drenched. The trees appear to be sweating. Their long branches and hanging roots drip and drop with water. The concrete floors, tiles, and soils all looked soaked. The air smells damp. Humidity dominates this domain.

People who walk, aim for shelter as fine misty rains drip and drape over you. They swallow all who pass. The grey clouds that shroud towers move swiftly bringing hot, soggy downpours and misty conditions. Rain isn’t always around, but almost all clothes give an effect of walking in a swimming pool. Wet. Wet. Wet. And hot. Tropical heat cooks and dehydrates you. Your lungs are a prisoner to damp.

The walk from Guangzhou East railway station towards the Canton Tower and the British Consulate office felt like an upright swim through a cloud. Little dryness was left to the respiratory tract. Even less fresh air. The putrid stink of soggy sodden drains arose over nature’s handful of flowers.

Following a successful appointment, having arrived early and been sent back to the dank air outside only to return later, I emerged back into muggy breezes. The thesaurus would support my use of oppressive terms for stifling terminology. The steamy weather certainly did. With the necessary documents to hand, I steamed back to Guangzhou East railway station and fumbled my way through train ticket booking. The clammy phone in my hand, a tool to close the deal.

The air-conditioning on the 15:49 C7045 train merited the first class seat. It was the only available seat. The last chair from irriguous Guangzhou, bound for Dongguan’s Changping. At Changping, close clammy air circled and crept beneath my shirts buttoned front. The mucky dusty air was exchanged for a private taxi to meet Gerry for dinner.

The latest in a long line of Kings Bars and Restaurants, at the Virgin Hotel 4th floor, made for frosty respite to the lack of chill outdoors.

Step back: I.

The journey from Dongguan to Manchester was by no means a short one. A drive, by neighbour and friend Charif, with Panda and I, was the first start. After handing back the Songshan Lake apartment, the over-the-top backpack (29.8kg), dog carrier (11kg + Panda 19kg) and 10kg hand luggage slotted into Charif’s spacious sports utility vehicle. Two toilet stops on the way to the airport for Panda, and then we arrived into a multi-storey car park. An elevator to the roof gave Panda ample time to drop off unwanted gut packages and then we shook hands with Charif, or in Panda’s case, a lick and a jump, and off past security we went.

Check-in went smoothly, save some panic about vaccination certificates needed in Amsterdam, for me! Panda’s paperwork went swimmingly. With a late flight, arrival was well in advance. Off Panda went, checked-in, down a a conveyor belt, for a lengthy journey ahead. I passed security, the health check corridor and baggage check before entering the departure lobby. A near empty airport had water refill points, poor wi-fi and little else of use. Dynamic zero and its COVID-19 policy has destroyed any fun to be had in airports. No food was available. I munched on a bag of beetroot crisps and drank my water (warm, not cold). Still, I was able to stream Manchester City’s 6-0 win over recently promoted Nottingham Forest. A hat trick for the fantastically good Erling Haaland, with a brace by Julián Álvarez and a strike by João Cancelo ensured three points for City, and a smile as I boarded the aircraft bound for Istanbul.

The two flight legs involved the watching of two movies, To Olivia, and The Professor and The Madman. The former is a biographic account of a tragedy that unfolds in the lives of the family of author Roald Dahl and actress Patricia Neal. It stars Hugh Richard Bonneville Williams as Dahl and Claire Julia “Keeley” Hawes as Neal. The director John Hay takes an affectionate and gentle touch to a tough task, delivering a dreamy movie with a warmly-hugged factor. He is a director known to myself for that great movie, There’s Only One Jimmy Grimble. Acting titans Mel Gibson and Sean Penn head a cast that tackles the formation of The New English Dictionary on Historical Principles (better known as Oxford English Dictionary). It sounds like a dull story, but in truth it is far from the dictionary definition of dullness.

Between flights, a brief stop at Istanbul gave me chance to sample great sandwich, coffees and some snacks before boarding for Amsterdam and a central European gateway to Britain… At this stage I was highly excited, nervous and bubbling with a mixture of emotions and anticipation. As the door to life in China swung to shut, an open door to the next chapter of life lurked ajar, but needed a few steps to get there.

Stage I: Xi’an

Departing Shenzhen International Airport for Xi’an city in Shaanxi province proved a problem. The 1050am flight was cancelled. That was a pretty hefty stumbling block. But, in checking the trains, Mr Oliver and I booked a long haul train from Guangzhou South to Xi’an via Zhengzhou East (wherever that is). We hopped in a Didi car and jumped on a high speed train from Dongguan’s Humen Railway Station.

Almost 11 hours later we arrived at Xi’an and used another Didi taxi car to take us to the Lemon Hotel. The wrong one. Turned out there are more than one, with similar names. We almost ended up at yet another incorrect Lemon Hotel. Bitter luck followed us to the right hotel though. Our reserved rooms with given away because we were late. So, we had a family room and checked out the next day rather annoyed.

We left our bags at left luggage, and gravitated towards to Xian city walls. The walls are around 14km around, although I didn’t do the maths. After just under three hours the circuit was completed. There was annoyingly a lot of sunburn. Oops. Major oops. The wall is a seriously good place to feel the city and get close to the historic grounds. However, most is quite commercial and bare. Nevertheless, the city walls and castle features are vast and photogenic.

Breakfast and dinner has been delightful. Xi’an really lives up to its reputation when it comes to variety and delicious foods! It seems everyone wants you to try something new or local. The belly may grow these days…

With the wall completed, and attempt to see the museum was abandoned due to sold out tickets. Some further walking was had followed by a park with an entertaining roller skating rink. Tomorrow, terracotta and upright old fashioned Action Men figures await.

Murray Christmas.

早上好。Good morning.

Having boarded a Didi taxi car (express service) to Guangzhou Baiyun International Airport Terminal Two, I’m currently motoring up the whatever it’s called highway northwards. As the car hurtles towards the border of Dongguan, I realize that this is only the second time I’ve left Dongguan city proper since returning in Spring 2020. In October, I went to Suzhou and that’s about it. I haven’t been to Shenzhen at all. I had a football tournament with Murray’s FC in Foshan for a day. And, a school trip to Guangdong Science Centre, allowed a few hours on the outskirts of Guangzhou. Okay, so travel has happened, but not much.

As many people around the world, just like family and friends back in the UK can relate, travel these days is a rare thing. It’s not always wise. I’m lucky, no, I’m privileged to be able to move around in relative freedom. Many people will travel domestically in Chinese New Year. The mainland of China often resembles a fast paced Rubik’s cube at that time. I doubt that I’ll travel then. The risks will increase, despite the experts here saying the risks are low.

So, here I go, heading to catch a flight to Shangri La Airport. And it isn’t a fictional airport or city. Zhōngdiàn (中甸) was renamed to Shangri La (Xiānggélǐlā/香格里拉) to draw in tourists. Mission accomplished. The so-called picturesque Yunnan province city awaits. From there I hope to trek/ramble/walk into the wider area of Díqìng Tibetan autonomous prefecture [迪庆藏族自治州]. This will give me a risk free (although under caution and care) wander in a mountainous land. Armed with face masks, hand cleaning gel and common sense, tonight I’ll be sleeping at a higher altitude.

The Didi car driver called me to check I was okay for today, immediately after pre booking the journey yesterday. Powered by Cantonese and Mandarin power ballads, at an acceptable volume, the driver, Mr Yang is allowing his electric Toyota to zip forwards. This Uber-like service has been invaluable since it appeared on the scene to foreign customers several years ago. Using my poor Chinese, I feel quite proud to have understood many little phone and car conversations. Each driver has been my spoken Chinese tutor for some time. The cost of the journey today is about 330RMB for an estimated 99 minutes of travel time. I figured the cost worth it when placed against other options. Had I have gone by train (40rmb), stayed in a hotel for a night (120+rmb), used local taxis etc it wouldn’t have been far off the cost of this journey. Besides, I was able to enjoy flour noodles and hotpot yesterday evening.

So, with my bags packed, a litre of pure orange juice, a premade sandwich and familiar warm music, the darkness of 5am passes me by, occasionally punctuated by rear taillights and a rare street lamp. Strangely, unlike other solo or group walks, I’m far from excited. It’s Christmas time. I’m alone. I’m far from home. I expect that my green health QR code will be accepted but I may encounter some wariness or prejudices. I could be wrong. I hope so. I don’t believe people are bad but I do believe there’s lots of worry around. Worry leads to fear. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to suffering. Sorry, too much Grogu and Yoda there.

Last Saturday, Murray’s FC held its annual Christmas game and barbecue. There aren’t many places in the world where you can mix a large group of people and play football. We really are in a strange time. There were many missing faces and we all pass on our love and peace to Murray’s FC players, friends, associates, past and present. We may have adopted the Dongguan F.C. moniker but we’re still the same sharing and caring team that welcomes all. Even Man U fans. The game finished 7-7 and marked by second 8-a-side goal in three months. Gareth Southgate wasn’t there to witness it. He won’t get my rejection either. The ball, fueled by Alvaro’s strike, bears an imprint of my gonads to this day. I can still taste them. Horrible moment. Other than that, it was a very pleasant day culminating with a barbecue at Liberty bar.

In closing, my bag has simple cold weather clothes, a lesser spotted windbreaker (Sherpa brand from Nepal), a rain jacket layer, walking boots, a sleeping bag, a walking pole, a notepad, a camera and little else. Supplemental oxygen? No thanks. I’ll take the altitude change slowly and surely. No rush. No aims. Just explore. Waterfalls, glaciers, and mountains are all bonuses after months in the city of Dongguan. So, what now?

再见 Goodbye. Have yourself a Murray Christmas. 圣诞快乐。

Woolly balls, Alan & Xi’an

How do! / 你好 (nĭ hăo) / Namaste / Welcome!

Is that…? No, it can’t be. But, wait, it bloody well is. I‘ll have a gander to check. I stepped into a stationery store in Dalang, attached to the Dongguan Dalang Football Association (DGDLFA). Football culture and community has always interested me. The crest of one of the DGDLFA clubs resembled Man Utd’s badge. I’m sure any do. It’s a curse in any Asian nation that most fans follow a red team. Their flags are red, their Communist brothers in arms are red, red stars, red scarves, red packets, lucky blooming red. Everywhere.

Instead of worn old leather footballs on the central axis, this club, Dongguan Zhicheng F.C. has in place two woollen balls. Zhī (织)means weave or knit. Chéng (城) means city or wall. So, here we have it a woolly mammoth-aged club wrapped in cotton wool. On the top of the crest there are kind of lucky bells, and golden scrolls. There is a ball in pace of Salford Rugby Club’s stolen red devil. Six people fail to adhere to social distancing beneath the ball. The sixsome is an oddity in itself. Most people I know play 7-a-side in China, and sometimes, every now and then 5-a-side. There is football in the traditional 11-a-side format, which is lesser-spotted. I only know of one 6-a-side field in Dongguan. We use it regular on a rooftop. So, Dongguan Zhicheng F.C., what is this mutant game you are playing?! I was in the stationery shop, a foreigner, a rogue and an unexpected shopper. I had to investigate further.

Inside a larger, and rounder older Cantonese lady kind of sneered at me. She eventually asked what I was looking for. I uttered my crap Mandarin Chinese, “Wǒ zài kàn” (我在看). This in itself was bad, as she was clearly Cantonese. I had overheard her recording a flowing barrage of Canton dialect into her right-hand-clutched-like-a-Lego-man-mobile-phone. Can we say phone now? Most phones are mobile now. Landline phones in China are mostly ornamental, right? I could have said to her, “Wǒ zhǐ shì kàn kàn” (我只是看看。) Zhǐ shì means just/merely/only. I didn’t. We all know by now, that I was on a reconnaissance gathering mission. If anyone is monitoring me, I am buggered. Proper buggered. She said, a simple, “Hǎo de” (好的) because it was okay to look around right. It’s a stationery shop and not Area 51.

After selecting some useful stickers and highlighter pens, of various shades of sky blue, a man emerged from the adjoining office door of the Dongguan Dalang Football Association (DGDLFA). He looked at me with suspicion. There was a smidgeon of something in his eye. It could have been dust, curiosity or any other emotion. Maybe the bright yellow faded to peach coloured football shirt I wore was too loud. We looked eye to eye for far too long. I had to buckle and break the moment. The man’s square face framed in black glasses and a thick head of black hair age no emotion away. His game could have been poker. I crumpled and folded my coolness but calmly let out a dry word, “nĭ hăo” (你好). After all, who doesn’t like hearing a stranger say hello. We can’t all be Villanelle from Killing Eve. Some of us must be polite and less murderous.

After selecting some gold dust items, I went to the check-out and here the Lǎobǎn (老板/boss) chatted to me. “Nǐ xǐhuān mànlián ma?”, he said. 你喜欢曼联吗 translates to something offensive to me, and to many. He had asked, “Do you like Manchester United?” My response was calm, and to the point, “Wǒ bù xǐhuān mànlián” (我不喜欢曼联). I do not like Manchester United. It’s a fact. You can check my social media for diatribe and other denunciation of that club. There are rants, periods of haranguing and tirades that probably go back to 1982. I crossed my right hand over my chest and pointed to the crest upon my left breast. “Wǒ ài mànchéng”, said I. I love Manchester City (我爱曼城). He looked me up and down, smiled, and wearing his red polo top, with the crest that resembled Old Trafford’s footballing giants, he proudly said, “Wǒ zhīchí lìwùpǔ” (我支持利物浦). He supports Liverpool. He eventually told me in a mixture of Chinese and his good English that his team liked the badge of Man Utd. I asked him about his connection to Liverpool. None. He didn’t even watch games before the Champions League win last year.

And, that’s one of the reasons football struggles in China. A lack of clear identity. The balls of wool made me think that this team in 大朗 (Dàlǎng town) had pride on their locally known and nationally famous name of wool. Instead I left wondering why a Liverpool fan, would create a team with an almost Man Utd crest. He told me how they’d started a team from a school field in 2018 and then two teams, other teams followed. They play regular 8-a-side because 8 is lucky. I asked why their badge only has 6 people. He said the goalkeeper is not a player. I said, for 8-a-side, this still leaves his team one player short. He said there are 8 outfield players and a goalkeeper. That’s a lot of players on a FIFA regulation 7-a-side field. And, they use a size four football, not a regulation size five football. Good luck to the China national football team.

As I paid my bill, we talked international and domestic football. The excitement that the Premier League in England is returning at a time, that China will also welcome a restart to football. The Chinese Super League is set to resume soon (2020中国平安中国足球协会超级联赛). On July the 3rd, the league will be split into two groups. As China closed its borders to foreigners, the CSL upped the maximum number of players a team could have, from six to seven (throughout a season). At any one time, only six are allowed within the squad, of which, only five can play in one game. Of those five in one game, only four can be on the field at any one time. Following me? Good. Of those four, no foreign goalkeepers are allowed. Taiwanese, Hong Kong or Macau citizens are Chinese as long as they started their professional career as a player there.

Alan Douglas Borges de Carvalho, born José Bonifácio, Brazil is Chinese now. As is Elkeson de Oliveira Cardoso, but he was born in Coelho Neto, Maranhão, Brazil (which you won’t find on a map of China). The former player, Alan (阿兰), arrived from Red Bull Salzburg on 2015. The latter, Elkeson (艾克森/ Ài Kèsēn) arrived in 2013. Chinese citizenship via naturalisation has given both the chance to play for China’s national team. Ricardo Goulart (高拉特) from São José dos Campos, Brazil awaits FIFA to decide if he could play in the stages of the 2022 FIFA World Cup qualification. Aside frome Mousa Dembélé at Guangzhou R&F, Paulinho at Guangzhou Evergrande Taobao, Alex Teixeira at Jiangsu Suning, Marouane Fellaini at Shandong Luneng Taishan, Stephan El Shaarawy at Shanghai Greenland Shenhua there aren’t too many players out there that are household names. 27 Brazilians and 3 former Brazilians make up the 80 possible overseas players for 16 teams. Amongst the Brazilians, Hulk, at Shanghai SIPG isn’t the incredible one, but former-Chelsea player Oscar at the same team has a few awards to his name.

So aside from my covert quest into the local world of football, this turned into a great shop too. I found two A4 paper trimmers – also known as guillotines! Nothing says stationer like a machine with a blade named after a French Revolution beheading device. I hope the Chinese parliament and security forces don’t round me up for beheading postcards or cutting corners.

Xi’an: The Original Home of Football? Think Cuju (蹴鞠)

球迷会名称/Club name: 西安曼城球迷会 Xi’an Manchester City fans Association Club

球迷会联系方式/Club contacts: 阿圭罗的小媳妇儿 [Aguero’s Wife]

微博或其他社交媒体链接/Weibo or social media links: 西安曼城球迷会(微博名)
微信账号/Wechat account: 西安曼城球迷会(公众号)

关于我们/About us: 古称长安。长安城作为古代第一个人口破百万的国际化大都市,北濒渭河,南依秦岭,八水润长安。在这座古老的城市里,住着一群有着蓝色信仰的人们,这群人的存在给这座城市注入了新的活力,这就是我们——西安曼城球迷会。

不论你是土生土长的西安人,还是身在西安的异乡人,亦或是远在他乡的西安乡党,只要你信仰蓝月,我们都向你敞开怀抱。

Xi’an, is an ancient town, once known as Chang’an. Xi’an was one of the Four Great Ancient Capitals. Xi’an is the original starting point of the Silk Road. Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s Terracotta Army is based here. Bordered to the north by the Weihe River, the southern Qinling Mountains and known for 8 rivers, the city has great diversity and history. The sky blue and white faith of City reached Xi’an in modern times and adds vitality to a City mostly know for its great food and castle walls. Whether you are a native to Xi’an, or a visitor to Xi’an, Xi’an’s OSC opens their arms to meet you and your love for the Blue Moon. No reds allowed. 

Expect to eat: Roujiamo Chinese Hamburger (肉夹馍); Liangpi (凉皮); Paomo Mutton, beef, and Bread Pieces in Soup (羊肉泡馍); Biang Biang Noodles (油泼扯面); Jinggao Steamed rice cake stuffed with honey dates and black beans (甑糕).

Expect to see: Fortifications of Xi’an & Xi’an City Wall (西安城墙); Xi’an Bell Tower (西安钟楼); the Drum Tower of Xi’an (西安鼓楼); Mount Li (骊山); Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor (Qin Shi Huang) (秦始皇陵); Terracotta Army (兵马俑); Shaanxi Galaxy (陕西银河); Shaanxi Guoli F.C. (陕西国力)Shaanxi Renhe Commercial Chanba F.C. (陕西人和商业浐灞)Shaanxi Dongsheng (陕西东盛); Xi’an Evening News (西安晚报); Qinqiang opera (乱弹).
Did you know? Arthur Gostick Shorrock [from Blackburn, Lancashire, England] and Moir Duncan founded the Sianfu Mission in 1892.

U.K. Twin cities & Towns: Edinburgh, Bury St. Edmunds & Birmingham

爱与和平/Peace and love

Their gaff, their rules?

How do! / 你好 (nĭ hăo) / Namaste / Welcome!

“If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.” – George Washington

Before I write any more, firstly, I need to clarify that I hate the idea of animals suffering. Actually, it forms one of the reasons why right now I do not have a pet. If I cannot be certain where I will live within twelve months, how can I look after a cat, dog or hamster? I’ve been lucky enough in my life to be raised around animals. My Dad and Mum gave me Pup, who was with me for about 17 years of my life as man’s best friend, a wonderful dog. There were cats along the way, Basil (think of a detective that was a rodent), Sparky and Tigger (original, right?). I had umpteen hamsters: Bright Eyes, Stripe, Gizmo and Gremlin to name but a few. Astrid, my sister, will tell you of her hamster Doris, and how she selected it on the basis that it bit her bigger brother (me) in the pet store. There were mice, bred and rehoused, with responsible intentions. I had fleeting dreams of being a vet – but for a huge dislike of blood. Then, it was time to study a BTEC National Diploma at North Trafford College and eventually study a BSc Behavioural Biology. Since then, my wildlife and animal passion has evolved into a pastime, set of interests and hobbies. The professional world was oversubscribed, underpaid and hard to escape clicks. It wasn’t for me. Instead I find myself softly influencing future generations and making people think twice.

“I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”- S.G. Tallentyre, The Friends of Voltaire.

Stumbling into education with transferable skills just meant I swapped elephant dung in the morning for a whole raft of new pooh. I’m in China, their gaff their rules. But I can talk freely about some topical issues. What is a wet market? Well, it’s just a marketplace that sells fish, meats, vegetables, and fruits. The produce is not dry (like fabric or electronics). The goods at wet markets are perishable. Not all wet markets slaughter animals or have a fishmongers. Across the Indian subcontinent (e.g. Thailand), China, Japan, Korea and the island countries northwest of Australia, wet markets can be found and are a common feature of daily life. Foods can be fresh, cheaper than supermarkets, and going to these markets themselves can be a huge part of your social life. It is tantamount to culture and traditions for many people. To close many wet markets may be seen as xenophobic and cause more problems. But, will these same wet markets yield the next outbreak?

Wang Mengyun’s video of a bat being eaten in Palau has become infamous. It is disgusting in my opinion. What adds further disgust is that RT and the Daily Mail, amongst many, posted this via news outlets and social media claiming it was from Wuhan. I was even sent it on the Chinese app Wechat. I’m not justifying or defending her, or any other fools eating weird crap. Data and images can easily fit any story, without, erm, actual information. Of course, if China is involved, then there’s always an element of menace and worry from a social point of view. What exactly are they up to over there?

The wet market here hasn’t reopened (and many will never reopen, as many are rumpured as marked for demolition, to be replaced by more sanitized versions) which is great. I’m actually excited for when it does because they have limited the list of edible species right down. You wouldn’t believe the list before. There was no list. It could have been likened to taking a walk in a zoo. Except, that zoo was closer to The Green Mile, and all the inmates were destined for the grimmest of chops. Owls, giant salamanders and frogs may not appear on the menu in Beijing, but across this large nation of China, there are huge differences in diets. Here in Guangdong, it is said that the Cantonese eat everything with four legs, excluding chairs and desks.

Afterall the list isn’t far off what is approved as meat in the U.K. The most exotic things are to be found all over Britain such as ostrich, deer, reindeer, alpaca etc. Sadly, the list still includes fur species: mink, foxes and raccoons. BUT activism and conservation are growing here. Thoughts are changing. Many influential and middle-class people really believe that bigger changes are coming. Conservation and animal welfare are some of the few things people can protest here. The WHO advised China to “sell safe food with better hygiene”. That seems to be triggering a huge revolution in hygiene. There’s revulsion at the rich who can afford palm civet soup, braised bear paws and deep-fried cobra. These rarities are not farmed or caught for everyone. There’s status and face to show off, and keeping up with the Joneses is on the menu. Rebecca Wong explains in her book about the illegal wildlife trade that things are far from simple.

The China Biodiversity Conservation and Green Development Foundation is pushing for an end to meats from wild sources. Many cities such as Shenzhen and several provinces are banning the sale of wild-sourced meats – yet China only has a temporary ban in place (and that excludes use for Traditional Chinese Medicines – T.C.M.). Is the ban effective? Well, The Daily Mail, managed to get images and a journalist into Guilin, Guangxi province and show dogs alongside cats, with T.C.M. posters showing bats. The W.H.O., the U.N.’s Convention on Biological Diversity, have called on China to do more.

China’s Wildlife Protection Law to permanently make catching and eating wildlife as a food into a criminal law will follow. The decision’s first real steps had been made on February 24th 2020. It is expected the list of 54 wild species bred on farms will be further reduced. Do people really need to eat hamsters and bird of prey? Do these horrific farms need abolishing? Does the farm license from The State Forestry and Grassland Administration conflict with their interest in wildlife protection? Places like Guangzhou and this province of Guangdong will need to seriously rearrange their eating habits. Chinese news sources, backed and owned by the state, have decried the practice of eating wildlife. One such piece, China Daily, went further than most with an English opinion piece by author Wu Yong. He correctly pointed to the Institute of Virology of the Chinese Academy of Sciences (home base: Wuhan) and their publications warning of the next big outbreak, following SARS in 2012. There are voices from within China banging a drum to the same beat: stop eating wildlife (50% of people surveyed in 2014 said wild animals should not be eaten). And should the laws come how vague will they be? How will provinces, cities and local areas enforce the laws? Who will steady the balance books of those who need the income?

“Without freedom of thought, there can be no such thing as wisdom – and no such thing as public liberty without freedom of speech.” – Benjamin Franklin

It is easy to say that wild animals carry viruses, and should they not be eaten by people, then there is little to no chance of these zoonotic viruses affecting human lives. If we do, then the viruses are with us. But, how many viruses start on farms from long-term domestic animals? Think Pandemic H1N1/09 virus and its outbreak from Mexico/U.S.A. in 2009 that killed about 151,700-575,400 people globally, according to the CDC. The problem is that for some their eyes are bigger than their bellies. They don’t want you and I, or others telling them what is right or wrong. For some status and entitlement is paramount. Why can a rich U.S. hunter go and shoot a lion in Africa, when a poor villager can’t catch pangolin in Vietnam to support their family? Will bans work? Will the trade go from loosely regulated to completely underground shady dealings? “Psst, wanna but a civet?” What is a civet anyway? I imagine many having seen a pangolin too. Look them both up. They’re wonderful little critters. Just don’t grill them!

“It is clear that not in one thing alone, but in many ways equality and freedom of speech are a good thing.” – Herodotus

China has endured food safety scandals, unusual additives being included in food, a distrust of food regulation, corruption and countless public health appeals and campaigns seeking to improve standards. If you live here long enough, you’ll know having diarrhea tablets to be most useful. Food poisoning happens and at public ad even private restaurants, finding hand soap can be a miracle. Everyone carries hand sanitiser and tissues, but few look forwards to visiting an outside toilet. To get to the modern regulation systems of the U.K. standards, the U.K. under the name of Great Britain and its Empire had many flaws and faults. Many want change but it will take time. Not every country is perfect, some wash their chicken in chlorine, don’t you America? Tradition and odd ingredients need talking about, at least. Without conversation and debate, how can we as people strike a balance between nature and need?

This pandemic is always going to throw up many questions. Should all wet markets adapt and abandon tradition in favour of hygiene and high standards? Yes, for the sake of humanity, surely! Should we be searching for the next big pandemic? Should we be vaccinating our pets and our zoo animals when the cure to COVID-19 arrives? Will the virus replicate and mutate in other domestic animals? Have we ignored the warnings (2017 and so on) for too long? Will wildlife poaching rise in the shadow of little eco-tourism? How many more lies will the internet spread about handwashing?

“We have to go see Bill Gates and a lot of different people that really understand what’s happening. We have to talk to them, maybe in certain areas, closing that Internet up in some way. Somebody will say, ‘Oh, freedom of speech, freedom of speech.’ These are foolish people. We have a lot of foolish people.” – Donald Trump, Twitter user.

Keep talking. It’s the only way to progress.

 

The cover image: chicken anus on a stick. From a Taiwanese takeaway store, in China.

 

Before quarantine.

你好 (nĭ hăo) / Namaste / Welcome!

“In general what I tell people I have learnt is that it’s far better to make a friend out of a possible enemy than an enemy out of a possible friend. You can’t go far wrong.” – Bob Weighton, aged 112 – interview on Good Morning Britain.

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“We need to call Mr Lam back in 20 minutes,” Gerry said, explaining that we had little time to make a decision or get out of Thailand. Monday had started heavily, with worries about an impending closure of the whole of Thailand. Royal mandates and decrees were in position and martial law was on the horizon. A state of emergency was teetering into play, threatening one to three months of lockdowns. Flights were being cancelled and the prospect of all international flights being suspending was approaching fast. We’d been supplying our Principal, Mr Lam with regular requests for assistance for many days, as it was. And, both Gerry and I had had flights cancelled in the run up to that Monday. My Thai Air Asia flight could be rebooked, as long as it was before the scheduled flight on April the 1st, April Fool’s Day. Trip.com, the agent that I booked with has yet to provide any customer assistance. That’s understandable considering the world’s population of humans have big, big, big problems now.

The British Embassy and UK Foreign Office were essentially telling all British citizens to fly home to the motherland – a green land heavily infected with COVID-19. The Thai people said I could remain there and all I needed was a British embassy letter. The UK Foreign Office had previously said don’t go to China – and had yet to retract that statement, despite China being one of the few places seriously controlling the spread of COVID-19…

Mr Lam, and the school could not confirm of the school would be responsible for flight costs or any potential quarantine costs. At that stage, flight tickets had jumped from about 900RMB one way to 4660RMB – and quarantine could be anywhere between 200-400RMB a day. We were pretty much assured that we would be allowed home quarantine as many others had experienced this. Another colleague Nick, was trapped in Sri Lanka, with fast-diminishing flights outbound, but was due to fly on April the 3rd. Two colleagues, Garth and Jason had been in Dongguan during their lockdown and were finally enjoying restaurants and fresh air after lengthy periods tucked in their homes.

So, I agreed with Gerry, that we had to go. With that Mr Lam booked us on a China Southern Airlines flight to Guangzhou. So from an evening playing four-in-a-row and checkers with science teacher Sirimook, I was frantically packing my bags and cramming bottles of Vimto into spaces that weren’t actually there. Around midnight, I was lay on the bed, everything packed and ready to go. It seemed to fast. This was an urgent few hours.

IMG_20200325_091650I awoke at 7.30am, I jumped onto the hire bicycle and returned it to Mr Wichai, who was very kind throughout the hiring period of said mountain bike. As I jumped on a tuk-tuk back, I told Gerry to fry up some of the Wiltshire bacon and the black pudding that we had ordered for a future treat. He complied, and as the kind woman driver of the tuk-tuk waited outside, we tucked into the quick breakfast, doused in HP brown sauce and then bid Amy and Eddi good luck and goodbye. They were to remain there indefinitely and would probably not emerge until Liverpool lifted the 2019/20 Premier League title, and the world was a safer place.

Back onto the friendly tuk-tuk driver’s tuk-tuk, we zipped out Chanta village gates, waving goodbye to the security guard and gatekeeper (in a mask, just like us), and turned right, then left at the roundabout, across the really quiet main road. We stopped so that I could pick up my City hat, it blew off due to turbulence and a gust. I ran to grab it. A snake darted off the near empty roads. I jumped back onto the tuk-tuk. The driver floored it. We reached the modern Hua Hin Airport to Bangkok Airport bus station. We paid her 600 baht for her driving, way above the usual rate – but she certainly wasn’t getting many customers that day. Hua Hin was desolate. Everyone who could fly away, had gone, or were at the airports desperately finding a way to their native lands. About a tenth of the average million visitors to Thailand were at that time stranded or clutching at straws to get out. We grabbed our bags and went to the counter. Almost all the buses that day had sold out. Our luck was in. We paid 294 baht. Within an hour we boarded the full 11:30am service, which left 30 minutes. The usual journey time was anticipated to be three to five hours dependent on traffic. We arrived before 2pm. Way too early check-in. Even with roadworks, our coach had practically flown into Bangkok uninhibited.

At Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport, our temperature was checked on the way in and we were each labelled with a green sticker. We were in. After being told that we were far too early to check in, we skipped past many returning Chinese nationals in hazardous materials suits. Some had full facial gas masks on. Some wore visors. Many sported full body rain ponchos that could be found in theme parks across the world. Others had kits resembling a kind of pale Ghostbusters. We wandered downstairs, well travellators, for lunch passing sets of four seats with two red exes closing off the central seats. A green tick meant that you could sit down. Posters, banners, hand gels, sanitizers, signs, announcements and swarms of temperature gun-toting airport staff. The pandemic response was clear to see.

Next was some queuing on red dots and trying to occupy one red dot on the floor per person, without being close to the person in front or behind. After dropping our bags in, scanning a QR code which gave us a National Health Commission of China health declaration, in Chinese, we proceeded to customs and passed several LED screens full of cancellations. Very little was due to fly that day. We were lucky. I showed Gerry that the Spring Airlines flight to Guangzhou that evening was cancelled. That was our other possible way out. There still was a chance that we would not lift off the ground. Flights were also known to face diversions and returns to their departure airports. We kept hope.

wx_camera_1585137521122After a goodbye beer in the airport, we grabbed sandwiches to go, quickly, as our flight’s departure had moved forwards a little. We boarded the flight and at the rear of the plane we were able to move from row 57 to 61 and enjoy lots of empty seats. They’re here, they’re there, they’re every slipping where, empty seats, empty seats… No headphones in flight and all the staff had latex hands, and half-hidden faces. After the usual health and safety video, the China Southern Airlines, flight CZ364 taxied and then rocketed down the runway. The wheels lifted and the plane went skywards. Up, up and away.

After an inflight sandwich or two, and a pre-packed inflight snack pack, our flight descended. We had no real idea of when we would eat next or how the reported quarantine and testing processes would be. We’d filled in the health declaration form – the first of four paper sheets that night and following early hours. Another QR code later, and we’d replicated the paper form on an electronic giving us a further QR barcode to provide to the epidemiological investigations team, after two temperature checks. Here a translator copied my English form to a Chinese form. Gerry was led away to another room. Eventually I was also directed to that room. The cast of Outbreak, in their sky-blue and white uniform hazmat suits wandered in and out. Gerry was led away to a smaller room and came out soon after saying the swab test was uncomfortable.

When my turn came, a young suited and booted man, who I could only see the eyes of, through steamed goggles, led me into the smaller room. Here I as happy that no needles were involved. That was – until a roughly 12cm swab was tunnelled up my left nostril and then my right one. It seemed to last forever. It was probably closer to a second or two. After that, I felt relief that it was over. Then a second swab appeared. The medic in white said, “Say, ahhhh.” I was closer to saying, “ARGHHHHH!” My gag reflex made me throaty and horrible in sensation. It was a vile feeling. I left the room with a taste of something unrecognisable and utterly vile. I whipped my mask down and swigged a few needed gulps of water. Gerry and I were each handed a stamped certificate to say that we’d had the tests. Out we went, through the next temperature gates and over to customs, after filling in yet another form. After passing customs, we found our bags slowly spinning around the baggage carousel amongst many other suitcases. At least ten baggage carousels filled the great arrivals hall. We were the only two souls within the room. It was now close to 01:30 on Wednesday morning. We’d landed around 23:30 the previous day. After gripping our bags, we passed through the customs declaration channels, gone right up a cordoned pathway, up some escalators and then left over a bridge. A young girl sporting a full hazmat suit directed us the only possible way we could walk, forwards.

The path was a bridge, entirely sealed and led to some stairs on our right. Down we went and turned right. Gerry mentioned that it reminded him of the registration tents of a marathon run. After scanning another QR code, and filling another paper form, we sat down and awaited a bus or coach to Dongguan. All around us, many tables displayed towns within Guangzhou, cities around Guangdong and one sign for provinces beyond. Eventually, around 3am, a dozen or more fellow Dongguan-bounded passengers were marked outside. Considering Gerry had stopped someone taking a bottle of hand-sanitizer by accident, they were all lucky to be boarding. In fairness, it was placed next to the complimentary water bottles. What struck me about ot all, here we were, in a nation at the time, that had suffered thousands of deaths, tens of thousands of infected ill people and yet spirits were high, and nobody seemed worried.

The coach departed with an escort vehicle. For some unknown reason there was a beeping sound for some time. I imagine it was to do with the hazard lights being on. The coach slowed down around Machong Town and a half-sleepy me heard my number (2) and Gerry’s number (3) and went to depart. I managed to get off the coach. In actual fact it was everyone but numbers two and three. So, back onboard I went. Then, the coach started up again and away we went. The bleeping sound never relented. As the coach pulled off the highways to more local roads, we could see recently constructed barriers between gardens and walls of MDF and scaffolding. Eventually, the coach passed the Botanical Gardens, pulled left, and a few hundred metres, left again into West Lake Hotel. The escort car shot up the raise to the hotel at the top of the hill. We followed, slowed and then stopped. The doors opened. We departed. Hazmat suits everywhere. Here they carried our bags, checked us in with yet another form at 05:00. The actual cost was to be an eye-watering 450RMB a night. I was handed my room number. No key. Gerry was allocated a different floor and wing of the hotel. Off we went. At the fourth floor (in the UK, it’d be the third floor), I told Gerry I’ll see him soon, and off I went, a few doors down on the right. I stepped through the door into quarantine.

It begins.

 


 

This week in Manchester, little Britain and the world.

“It’s irresponsible for the Prime Minister and Health Sec to say they’ll only self-isolate for 7 days. The WHO say people can be infectious 14 days after symptoms stop.” – Dr Rosena Allin-Khan, Labour MP for Tooting/NHS hero: A&E Doctor

Mancunian people, whether workers or businesses have always been known for their spirit when faced with the terrible. Mancs, not manky mongrels. Through kindness and solidarity, Manchester, whether blue or red, or other, whether queer, straight, transgender, lesbian, gay and all the wonderful colours of the spectrum of sexuality have and will always show love to hate, love to fear, and togetherness in adversity. Yes, there are exceptions and every village as their idiot, but we don’t look down on that lot, we reason, we educate ‘em and we again show love.

So, NHS, you beautiful creation and wonderful giver of life and provider in strife, here’s the City of Manchester Etihad Stadium, council-owned and City-leased for you to use as you see fit. Do as you need, because you need and they need, more than we need. Cry Sis’? No crisis, the superheroes with their inadequate masks and their gowns weakened by cuts, are here fighting. They’re our front line and with them I feel fine. If anyone can save me, it won’t be Superman, Batman or the Avengers, it’ll be Doctors like Rosena Allin-Khan, in Tooting, or our boys and girls in blue (or whichever nursing colours they choose) in Wythy, and my place of birth Crumpsall and the numerous other trusts up and down these green and pleasant lands. But, they need us. They need our volunteers, they need our support and they need us to stay indoors. The longer we do this, the sooner we’re out. If you anyone out, don’t give them a clout, maintain a distance and shout, “Oi, get inside and don’t be snide.” Feel the rhythm, feel the ride? No time for a sneaky bobsleigh ride. Watch the tele’  instead. Or find yourself lucky with beeping at the bed. Don’t be misled, by Trump and his fools, or Boris and his tools, 14 days here, is better than 14 days under soil, feeding worms and all the bugs. Overhead, thoroughbred might be okay, but in their hospital beds, some won’t live, and that’s the thing that you can give. A chance. One little chance. Stay at home, like I said.

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Returning to China has been eye-opening. What’ve I seen? World class control. Top rate protection. No risks. This is the now, and not the beginning which obviously was a huge Alan Ball’s up. I’d rather be here than Britain, right now. That says a lot. I’d be home in a jiffy, if I felt it was safe enough to protect my family and friends. I feel I can’t offer much more than a mass clap for the NHS.

The clap for the NHS was wonderful. It gave hope and lifted spirits. It wasn’t the true support that the NHS needed, but it was as a national scale response to the superheroes both in the UK and beyond that are battling for our lives. Some are giving their own lives. The government dissection and eventual evaluation of what could have been done better has begun, and will continue throughout, but I think the time to reflect must be after. Not now. By all means, question now and help to make suggestions. What’s absolutely unforgivable is that this Conservative government do not care about the general population of Britain. They found money with consummate ease to ease the worries and support the masses. It seemed mostly to support the upper echelons and middle tier of society, with so many hidden support packages for business and industry. People, the working class mainly, may not have jobs to go to after all of this blows over or fades away. That’s on the assumption that they make it through this alive.

This government downsized our capacity for dealing with outbreaks. They made devastating cuts and prevented those in medical capacities from having access to adequate personal protection equipment. The matter of Brexit pressed on and the warnings of SARS-CoV-2 barely existed. Not that any rival party politics groups were waving warning flags either. Nor was the WHO. The Conservatives seem, on the surface, to be facing up to their mistakes of old, realising that the chasm-like depth of suffering was on their doorstep – and soon enough it was flooding in and around them, swirling and taking no prisoners.

COVID-19’s arrival comes on the back of decades of reductionism at the NHS. Many aspects of the NHS are under market control. Cash for care. Money for statistics. Insurance by stockpiling medical goods, undermines profit and gain. Why put things in boxes and let them go dusty?

Capitalism protected itself (in June, not now) in unparalleled ways during this exceptional time. Chancellor Rishi Sunak was pushed forwards with his cool and emotional responses. A temporary floatation of cash keeps many people feeding the industries essential to keeping an economy afloat. This impermanent flash of generosity may be short-lived. Does it protect newly self-employed staff? No. Those undertaking redundancy recently? No. Those on a zero-hours contract? No. The unemployed and those on disability? No. They can apply for Universal Credit, which was increased to £94.25, up about twenty quid in these harder than hard times. £377 per month may help you travel far enough to buy the last bag of pasta, or pay a water bill on time. If you’re self-employed you can get up to £2500 a month. Chancellor Rishi Sunak cited fraud as being a huge concern. These are hardly terms to discourage people from going outside looking for a bit of work on the quiet. How long will this go on?

Government grants, from state funds, are bailing out businesses in a period of unknown. Like the idea of herd immunity, it could well be the same as pissing into the wind. Not of much use. The big plus being that the workers of Britain will not experience hunger or poverty, for now.

Health Secretary, Matt Hancock, had already said he couldn’t live on £94.25 a week. Around £330 billion has been set aside for business. The unemployed have a ringfenced figure of £7 billion to enjoy amongst themselves – over time. We’re in this together – some less than others, some more than others, and many doing near nothing – and some doing nothing but getting paid for it. There’s no such thing as equality. None. The rewards seen by businesses aren’t meant for the working classes. In a nation divided by those susceptible by this COVID-19 disease, there are already people plagued by means-testing, heavy taxes, debt, student loans (hell, years ago, I’ve thought about suicide on that subject but never considered it – I couldn’t hurt anyone in my family or my friends), and so many crippling factors. Now a fairer government would say, okay, hey, this is bad, erm, let’s have X amount of the pot divided by the population number. Each payment will be weighted larger towards those with care costs, children, disability, assistance requirements etc. Those who own a house, have less outgoings, no travel or fuel costs, will get less. Those stuck overseas and unable to return will get X, Y and Z provided. What am I talking about? A fairy tale. Stabilise people and their minds, keep them indoors and protect each other. Not with this government…

To highlight the hate directed at the mis-leadership that is this government’s modern day Neville Chamberlain, Boris Johnson (better described by Stewart Lee as…), preoccupied with conserving their social order and trying to escape self-isolation a week early is getting death threats and utter abuse. As his chancellor supports those who earn more (the more you earn, the more you get support), Boris is locked away in Number Ten Downing Street. Health Secretary Matt Hancock and England’s Chief Medical Officer, Professor Chris Whitty are also isolating alone. They all tested positive for COVID-19. Each shown symptoms of the viral disease that treats its hosts to universalism, something the Tory hosts may never understand. The Tories don’t care about you. Boris didn’t receive much love either. Just many cheers of joy and a few death wishes too.

A twat is a twat, but nobody truly deserves death or illness for being that. We’re not Gods and we don’t deserve to hang each other on nooses. As disgusting as someone is, isn’t it more human to reason, debate, democratically talk sense to a thickie… if not then, we all deserve the end. That’s bleak. That’s horrible. I imagine somewhere his education and his upbringing wasn’t like yours or mine and that shaped him. By all means don’t feel sorry for him, but don’t default to being Adolf bleeding Hitler on him. Yes, Boris, has years of systemic life-reduction methods and decision in his tank, but does anyone have the right to respond with heinous distasteful emotional attacks on the man? Is anyone entitled to stab a man in the back on his bed of illness? His policies may target groups of people and favour the few, but deep down below that tuft of white mop-hair, he’s a human. Or at least a lizard-humanoid, because he ONLY needs 7 days of self-isolation.

Or, we could argue that illness and hate is deserved. His floundering and dithering government sat back on this COVID-19 outbreak too long before making a huge U-turn to take it on. Dawdling the message of herd immunity fell away for the delaying weaker policy of ‘please stay at home’ and struggling into an eventual negligence and incompetence, aside from the heart-warming handclap. Personally, I don’t respect faltering Boris. He lost my respect long ago as stumbling Mayor of London, and wallowing as other fools since then. I won’t be his fan. Luckily, I won’t be wishing he dies or gets ill. I will be wishing that this government wakes up and gets its act together. Britain, the UK, England, whatever, it cannot go alone. The world must act together. Pool resource. Put aside emotion and concentrate on this global issue. Mother nature has a great new way to make compost – or air pollution via cremations. COVID-19 isn’t to be defeated, but gently turned away and eradicated. Viruses, like governments, and civilisations can fade away. Humanity should not. But, it does need to adapt P.D.Q. (pretty damn quick).

Unluckily, Brazil’s top dog and general knobhead, posing president Jair Bolsonaro has laughed at and almost denied COVID-19 as the world struggles. He even threatened to sack his health minister and any experts critical of his regime handing. Brazil is at high risk.

Luckily, some nations are taking action. The National Health Commission of China will not dismiss a second wave of this disease outbreak. That’s why the borders of China were closed to foreigners, on the 28th of March 2020. Around 10% of China’s so-called imported cases came from returning foreigners. As xenophobia and fear ramps up, China has called for calm. It also imposed a rule that allows one airline to go to one country, once a week. Posing the selfish question, how can I get to the UK in summer, if this carries on?!

“One thing I think the coronavirus crisis has already proved is that there really is such a thing as society.” – Prime Minister Boris Johnson, Twitter.

Luckily, COVID-19 doesn’t discriminate and isn’t corrupt.

Unluckily, the longer this goes on, the more our lives will change because of COVID-19.

Luckily, some nations are seeing drops in infections and deaths.

Unluckily, COVID-19 could be here for a while or mutate…

Luckily, Trump is taking U-turns and allowing states and other proper leaders to do a job.

Unluckily, Trump.

Luckily, Dyson and F1 are making ventilators, Brewdog are making hand gels, Santini (cycling jerseys) switched to making masks, and so many great stories. Trump is using the Korean War-era Defense Production Act to get General Motors producing items of use to the medical profession. Food banks, which shouldn’t exist in the first place, are being supported by major supermarkets.

Unluckily, many on the frontline of healthcare have died or are in isolation.

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The above image was made by SZ Blues member Waits.

Luckily, City & Utd came togetherand supported local foodbanks. #ACityUnited

Unluckily, Bugzy Malone’s boredom led to a crash. Get well soon.

Bastard of the week: McDonald’s asked for help from customers. This was only a week after Ronald McDonald House evicted a ten year old boy. NB: While the fast food company provides funding and organisational support, Ronald McDonald House Charities is an independent charity.

Luckily, many medics returning to fight against the outbreak. The NHS is testing more workers than ever before. #StayHomeSaveLives

As COVID-19 almost doubles every five days or so, it isn’t all doom and gloom. People are recovering. That’s key. Hope.

I’d like to leave you with this:

“There is no such thing as society.” – Margaret Thatcher, Prime Minister (U.K.), 1979-1990

Hey, Maggie, we’re about to really find out… look up from Dante’s Inferno and see how we get on.


Personal Protection Equipment
I keep getting asked about how to buy masks from China. I can’t help, I’m in quarantine. If you need any masks, give Maria at Unique Dongguan a shout on Skype (+86)18122819259, 370105612@qq.com, or #wechat for info or help. #covid19UK #covid19 – and take a look at: dgsali.com

I’m not gonna give up.

Sawasdeekhap / Namaste / Welcome!

Before the climb, we’d stopped in Danagyu, at a lodge on the right-hand side. It was busy. A family were playing cards. Kids were running around and one managed to hit both Livia and I with first her walking stick and second a snotty finger. I was fully aware of the coronavirus outbreak by now. It was by now February. Hygiene was on my conscience but this terrible toddler was not sharing my concern. Bogies smeared down my leg. I used soap and water to clean it away. Eventually a teenage girl came over and shuffled the toddler away. We’d already ordered pumpkin soup and momos now. Having seen the soon to be altogether contour lines on the map, our engines for walking needed some much needed fuel. One trekker’s bar wasn’t going to be adequate.

After reaching a waterfall tucked in a tight ravine, Livia went right along the road, and I went left up some steep steps. Srirang was just behind Livia, with his sore leg, yet he soldiered on and never gave in. Tough lad. After only a few steps, I started to see speedy little Himalayan squirrels and the view backwards of the peaks nearby to Manaslu was marvellous. Upwards was very much that. Up, up and away. After some crumbly steps, that could have been made of Lancashire cheese of apple crumble topping, I managed to reach the road, and cross straight over back onto the pathway. Here the green trees folded outwards ever so slightly, to show stacks of natural compost on the forest floor. The air had a damp natural earthy smell and occasional felled logs rotted alongside the trail. The track would mostly rise and do little of a fall. Soon enough the mud and dirt track became covered in frozen snow. Not the fluffy soft and easy to trudge through kind, but the solid mostly with a metre drop inwards should I find the bit unable to tolerate my weight, kind. And it seemed I was in for many steps up, and a few deep into the partially frozen snow. Heave. Heave. Heave.

The snow pretty much didn’t want to convey me and with every drop my boots, and the best part of my legs disappeared. Out came the crampons. Out came the determination. Onwards I went. My imagination enjoyed the peculiar eerie silence. I imagined packs of wolves, snow leopards and bears watching me go by. Not your ideal range of animals to picture you pass by, especially if one of them was very hungry, but here I was in the territory of nature, and damned if I was going to imagine Minecraft or a rock concert.

The pine trees shed patches of snow and melt water dripped all around me. Glorious rays of sunshine broke the canopy and occasionally I caught glimpses of mountain tops here and there. Then, a sudden crashing sound in the trees ahead, had me at full alertness. I froze solid as the iced floor around me. Silence resumed. Then a larger and louder thump and crunch. Something was in the trees ahead. I heard a racket and a commotion. Voices yelled from the canopy to my immediate left. The thuds and thumps were accompanied by a disturbance in the snow maybe a few hundred metres away. Then I spotted a monkey, Himalayan langur, springing up and down in the snow, swiftly from tree to tree across a small clearing. They didn’t seem too perturbed by the snow, but didn’t hang around either way. I tried to shoot them. My camera wasn’t quick enough though.

Throughout this journey, I had seen many mammals. These included Himalayan langurs, Assam macaques, Rhesus macaques, Irrawaddy squirrels, orange-bellied Himalayan squirrels, Himalayan striped squirrels, voles, Himalayan field mice, Himalayan pika, shrews, a variety of bats, and some wild boar, I’d never seen many animals in the snow. It was a privilege to enjoy the monkeys and hear them move over the forest. It was a welcome break from the constant in and out walking motions of the snow. I also had chance to reflect about the fall onto my walking stick which had gave the stick a slight bend, or three.

After crossing many streams carefully, over tiny little snow-covered bridges, and occasionally playing find the rock over the odd crossing point, I reached a stretched out chain bridge. Snowfall and heavy damage had ripped one end of the supports from its foundations. The two guard rails fanned out, practically useless. It wasn’t quite and Indiana Jones movie, but it looked far more precarious than comfort. The river flow was about five metres wide, pummeling steeply down to the River Marsyangdi many metres below in altiiude. I decided to chance my luck at a bridge further upstream. After 200 metres, I realised that this was the only bridge. I hadn’t seen one downstream either. Whilst I could hear the river nearby, I couldn’t see it and no alternative route evident. The flayed and flawed bridge was to be my point of movement. A way like no other.

So, off came the crampons, and then I positioned my rucksack tighter to my back. I stowed my walking sticks. I pulled out my thin winter gloves with extra grips (thanks Black Diamond) and I stepped through the first pocket of snow on the bridge. I tested the bridge for movement. First with a little weight and then applying all slowly, readied to dive into the snow to the side of the bridge. Then, I did a kind of half-hop. The bridge was surprisingly sturdy – a real testament to the Gurkha builders who had provided so many bridges across the country. From that, I leant and tested the sideways cable to my left, uphill and in appearance the least damage of the handrails. I turned square onto it. I placed my left hand over my right hand and never left any motion rightwards without one very firm hand on the rail. By the time I’d reached the centre of the bridge, the rail tilted upwards, almost as it should have been and all the snow had melted in the sunlight. I gently walked up to the other side and looked backwards. Stepping off the bridge was a relief. Then I peered left at the small landslips dotted along the river bank.

The fallen ground and occasional uprooted tree didn’t prove too much of a challenge. The trail banked left and into an open field, which led onto a rock-cobbled road. Each rock was jagged and unwelcoming. It had a Lord of The Rings feel to it. Wild, and otherworldly. Onwards, I plugged until reaching the Hotel Royal Garden, where I met Livia aftera few minutes. Here, I also met Shadow. Shadow wasn’t his name but for that day he would be my little shadow and follow us throughout the village of Timang. After a great lunch, Srirang joined us, and we checked in for the night, just 100 metres down the road. Ahead of us the weather looked bleak and unsettled. So, a Sherpa family welcomed us, and we dropped our bags into a room each. The Hotel Manaslu View Point had a view of Manalsu in the distance and the panoramic view in all directions was a clear sign that we were now in the Himalayas, proper. Timang (2630m) was about 400 metres higher than Danagyu (2200m). The air temperature was much more-icy here. Clouds floated over the mountains behind us, disguising hidden peaks and over the River Marsyangdi to the opposite side, occasional matchstick-looking pine trees, empty of leaves and needles, stood like wooden stakes in a cemetery. There looked to have been a nuclear blast over the valley. Even the ground appeared clear of life.

This village was both sinister and beautiful. Firstly, the crows, those often billed in horror movie birds, were everywhere. They made themselves known with sharp piercing cries and occasionally softer sounds. The Kāga (काग Nepali for crow or craven) here were not Carrion crows. These were bigger ravens, Corvus corax tibetanus, with long grey neck feathers. Light on their feathers gave a beautiful purple-blue iridescence. Amongst the pairs of ravens, Carrion crows moved and foraging by jackdaws, and other smaller birds like sparrows could be seen through the village. Now, the sinister, I described wasn’t too much about the crows…

One single storey building with a shop front on the right of the road gave me new heebie-jeebies. Outside the front a man swapped tyres on a jeep. At the side of this passengers from the jeep waited patiently. At the rear of the building in the garden, an animal pelt hung from a washing line. From a distance I couldn’t work out if it was red panda, a dog or something of similar size. I know that the rules in Nepal are extremely strict regarding hunting, but I could not for the life of me understand what it was. It was, in all probability, a goat – and certainly unwelcoming. And, not far from that pelt on the washing line, a dead crow was tied up by its neck, flying in the wind like a grim version of a child’s kite. I expected haunted hillbilly music and a narrative from an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

After a great dal baht, in front of a warm fireplace, we all departed for bed. The matchstick looking cluster of spiders in the toilets gave an appearance of buffalo pubic hair [you know what I mean!] – and they seemed to detect the cold too, nestling together like brush hair in the corners of the long cold toilet room.

After a good night’s sleep, a great omelette and some defrosted ice-water, we three departed, bidding our farewell to Shadow the dog and a variety of goat kids in the nursery nearby. The road headed out, skirting around the brow of the hills beside us, never quite leaving the river below. At Tanchok village it doubled back inwards, crossing a frozen stream before lurching back into the river valley below. It slid gently up to the crossroads at Koto before nestling its way into Chame (2700m), complete with signs for yet more hot springs. Monkeys had been sighted in the forest’s brow by the village of Tanchok, by Livia and I stood watching them for some time. Here the valley started to tighten up and appear much steeper than previous days.

Chame is a colourful place, but in February, the sun sets early, shrouded by mountainous ridges to the west. Here a dozen municipal buildings and hospitals can be found. Derelict military barracks stand to the village’s north. It is a town of about 1200 people. In winter it is quiet with many people heading to Kathmandu and Pokhara. There are signs of the April 2015 earthquake having struck here. There were also some very good small supply shops and chances to get some much needed fruit into our diet. We checked into the cosy New Tibet Hotel and Restaurant sandwiched between a brittle looking cliff face and the river’s east bank. We then had a wander around the village which seemed to be many scattered lodges along a kilometre of two. An upper level village to the west looked more modern and functional, but less touristic. There were the usual array of schools and public facilities with prayer flags visible all across the high points.

After the walk Livia tucked into her billionth bowl of rice pudding, and probably ordered one for the morning too. Seeing Livia eat rice pudding in a wolf/koala/bear hat was quite a frequent sight on the journey. I often had scrambled eggs, porridge and buckwheat bread of chapatti. Always with a milky coffee or tea. Several bank machines were available in the village but there was no internet and sporadic power cuts for the two nights that we stayed. There was even a roadblock on alert for any walkers from China! By now fear and panic about COVID-19 had spread up the road. I kept news that I had left China over two weeks before arriving there to myself. I’d heard Chame described as an often crowded place. We met only two other trekkers, both French and both walking solo (with a guide).

Our lodge was less than two minutes of walking from a lovely spot. The hot springs doubled up as an open air launderette. Livia and I washed our clothing in the warm flow of water, as local soldiers soaked up the minerals in the neighbouring swimming pool. The spring itself was a dull green bubbling hole with pipes jutting from it. Nothing exciting to the naked eye. The miracle of life and fresh water was surrounded by man-made concrete and exploitation. Still, it was a good place to wash my underpants. Bloody warm too. Later I scattered my clothes on the balcony and added some socks to a warm chimney to speed dry them in the fading sunshine. Night was soon rolling in, complete with starry skies and ice-inducing temperatures. To be continued…


 

On the I’d booked a flight between Bangkok Don Mueang International Airport and Shenzhen for April the 1st. April Fool’s Day. Appropriately Thai Air Asia cancelled it yesterday. As I had used Trip.com to book it, I have to use Trip’s customer services. Flight FD596 is no more. On top of that, my visa expires here on April the 14th. I have been told that to stay here, I need to have a letter from the UK Embassy to say that travel to my country of residence is not possible. The UK Embassy won’t give such a letter for British citizens traveling to China. Thailand’s Immigration won’t allow me to stay because I can currently fly to the U.K. There are flights to Guangzhou at drastically hyper-inflated prices but even they could be pulled. Trip.com’s phone numbers ring a little and then hang up, all three of them! Their email reply reads as follows:

“Due to the huge backlog of emails caused by Corona Virus pandemic, we are sincerely sorry that your email won’t be able to get reply as usual. It will be delayed but no later than 30 days. Kindly recommend to manage your ticket online or though APP.” – modern day example of a crappy auto-response from a customer disservice centre, March 2020.

I get that we’re in a global catastrophe and the world is going mad buying excessive amount of bog rolls and shutting borders, but when you haven’t got much cash, or hope to get around, and your head feels like it is going to explode if it doesn’t release the bubbling rage and worry inside. I even paid for new cycle lights to allow me to break out of my body, and fly away, like a bat out of hell… or at least peddle fast from stray dogs and monkeys now coming out from the temples and sanctuaries in search of food. Next I expect to see chameleons on sun loungers, well maybe not see them, but at least know they’re there when the fly numbers drop down. That’d be more amazing because as I am aware, there aren’t chameleons in Thailand, but with current world problems, maybe they’ll bounce back like other wildlife – especially now people are talking more about wildlife trade ending. Or, will this COVID-19 world hide a debate about climate change?

Still, worries aside, it could be worse. It could be much, much worse. I worry for others. I’ll survive and money I haven’t got will add to other money that I never had. You can’t repossess from a hobo, right? Especially one trapped in Thailand… trapped, with just two bottles of Vimto and two frozen portions of black pudding. Nope, it ain’t all that bad! Stay strong. Survive. Beyonce and her mates told you to.

“I’m a survivor (what), I’m not gon’ give up (what); I’m not gon’ stop (what), I’m gon’ work harder (what); I’m a survivor (what), I’m gonna make it (what); I will survive (what), keep on survivin’ (what)” Destiny’s Child’s song was covered by 2WEI.

 

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

March 2014’s posts

Last bus from Guangzhou

3 Mar 2014

Last Wednesday, it was all lesson plans in and feet up around ten p.m.

After school on Thursday I had to teach the Chinese English teachers some English.  We discussed the difference in UK working/study hours compared to China.  I can safely say they were shocked.  I also explained on my old school, Reddish Vale, we had a a farm, and no animals were ever slaughtered for food.  They did not understand.  I did stress on the whole in the UK we have a cuddly attitude to animals in general.  I avoided the badger debate.

Later that day, we joined a group of foreign teachers to play (and I use this word loosely) basketball and football.  Suddenly, our status in the community went from being strange western folk to rock and roll stars.  The locals at the quaint square showed us how to play basketball – and we in turn played piggy-in-the-middle with a football.  Some badminton occured but on the whole not much to pass comment upon.

Friday night arrived and we had some grub at the local market with Briony, Becky and Birgetta.  Esben, James, Simon and Liam weren’t allowed as their names do not begin with the letter b.  I’m unsure how we managed to get an invite on that basis.  They did stop by briefly before getting a taxi elsewhere.  The food was akin to Chinese meets Tapas.  We each grabbed some grub (around 50 Yuan, enough for 5 people) and added our own beers (6 Yuan per 600ml bottle).

On the Sat’day, we popped over to Guangzhou by bus (38 Yuan) with Esben and Birgetta.  It took just over 1.5 hours from Houjie bus station (via Dongguan).  The journey wasn’t too bad, with plenty to see, including Baiyun‘s cable car.  We then popped on the busiest underground railway I have experienced to Shamian Island.  Here there is a pretty green gardens full of statues showing old and modern life in the this once colonial settlement.  Oh and birdsong throughout!  This is something I have noticed in Guangzhou and Dongguan so far, there is so little nature!   The whole region has many river basins, tributaries and streams.  You will not see any ducks.  You’ll barely see any birds.

After the little island hop, we wandered though the main market area and eyed the varied spices, dried dead things, funghi, caged birds and plants (loads of Bonsai trees and cacti etc) before settling down for a late lunch at… Pizza Hut.  Think UK Pizza Hut but smaller portion pizzas, regular is tiny.  Oh and they do rice, noodles, Chinese teas, Chinese food too.  Compared to other places, cost wise this equated to 330 Yuan for 4 people.  Massive difference to any local foods.

Once the bill had been paid we headed to the banks of the Pearl River, strolled along and enjoyed the bright lights, hid our distaste of the hook-a-duck style game for bunny rabbits, turtles and little caged birds… delighted at seeing a wild terrapin swimming, only for someone to scoop it up and put it in a box (food or pet?).  In the distance we could see the Canton Tower, very far away.  It is massive, China’s 2nd tallest building – and globally number 5 on the freestanding structure front.  This is one place we shall explore soon!

Our feet grew heavy, so we departed via bus  (30 Yuan each) – changing at Dongguan for a taxi (60 Yuan between 4 of us).  The last bus from Guangzhou to Houjie departs at 1830hrs – and we left at 2120hrs.

And last night I watched Manchester City win the League Cup on Chinese TV, on a sofa.  Armchair fan.

Timetables do not exist

4 Mar 2014

Nín hǎo!

So, today I asked what time do the buses run to Guangzhou and where can I find a bus timetable.  The response gained was simply, “They run diffferently every day and change often, even on the day.”  So if you travel by bus, pray one is there to be journeyed upon.  On Thursday we both have to travel to Guangzhou, to arrive by 1430hrs, by bus.  We leave our workplaces at 1130hrs.  The journey can take anywhere between one to two hours.

Oh and as to timetables, today I had not one, not two but three massive school lesson timetable changes.  Life here is so fast.  People here work hard, things filter through bit by bit.  But on the whole, you’ll not hear me rumbling, life is good here.

Nikki has just wandered in off the streets having been out drinking with foreigners from another school.

Now I shall pop on some Morecambe and Wise* before bed (it is 2210hrs now).  Feel free to email me videos to download etc – and anything you think I can share with my students.  There is a great website here called Tudou which has reasonable streams of recent movies.

zai jian

(*something to get the locals into)

Well Nikki writes a post!

7 Mar 2014

Hello everyone!

Well I finally got the link and password for the blog, so now you get to hear some bits from me. Well week 3 is over can;t wait for the lie in tomorrow. It’s not just me but all the teachers feel tired once we get to Friday. I’m fine teaching the kids as they keep me on my toes, but as soon as I get home thats it I shut down. Really enjoying it here its a great community there isn;t a day that goes by without someone saying hello. I’ve not done any running as yet, but do have trainers for when I start just been busy preparing for the 15 lessons I teach each week. Now I know what I’m doing (kinda) I can start Nikki’s Chinese Bootcamp in the next week or so.

Really enjoying teaching the kids always make me smile. I teach K3 (5-6years old), K1 (3-4) and baby (2-3). K3 is fun as they are really smart and can understand most of what I’m saying/teaching. There are a few kids that constantly speak to me in Chinese so I just keep smiling and saying yes, but I love that they want me to be part of their class. K1 is hard work as they are very playful, but they are my favourite class as I get lots of hugs from these kids (plus I know all of their names as only 12 kids), just need to think of ways of controlling them. Baby they are cute they have no idea of English so its down to me. Now they know my name everytime I walk by their classroom they say ‘Teacher Nikki’, this always makes me smile. I even stay and have lunch at the school with one of my K3 classes, food is better than the free food in the canteen where John eats. They even celebrate birthdays of the kids during the month by having all classes together, we all sing Happy Birthday,play games and then we all get cake! I have already helped redecorate the school with kids crafts/drawings, craft is defo my favourite lesson the kids love it,and during it they are quiet and well behaved.

We hope to explore the area over the coming weeks/months just need to get an idea of how to get to some of these places.

I have chatted to some of you on skype however if you are on skype and have not got my address it is little_nikkinz@hotmail.com would love to hear from you all.

Take care and I’ll write again soon 🙂

In memory of Gran

2014-03-09 08:19:57.0

We’ve just sponsored Family of Ivy Freeman. You can help them raise money for Dr. Kershaw’s Hospice too by donating at www.virginmoneygiving.com/team/IVYFREEMANFAMILY

John & Nikki x

The Cliff Richard fan club

9 Mar 2014

Nín hǎo!

On Wednesday, one of my colleagues, Birgitta had her bag snatched on the way to school.  The culprits sped away on scooters with a bag containing Birgitta’s passport, laptop and purse.  Since then the school community, the local Police and foreign teachers community has really pulled toghether.  Thankfully she wasn’t hurt and has responded positively, despite what was clearly a tough ordeal.

On Thursday we went to Guangzhou to apply for residency, a process pretty painless, save for a reasonable sized queue and the local government office taking our passport/foreign expert certificates off us for about 2-3 weeks.  we have photocopies until they are returned.

Today we went for a wander, looking at some shops and the town centre of Houjie, where we found the first DVD shop I have seen in China (that isn’t found on the back of a wheelbarrow).  We got Muse live at Wembley and an Elbow DVD for 15 Yuan each (about £1.50).  There are recent releases for similar figures too.  There were around 20 shelves of DVDs from the west, but one was wholly set aside for Cliff Richard!  Afterwards we spotted some impressive cacti for sale, alongside goldfish, rabbots and terrapins.  Nothing in China surprises me anymore.

This weekend has been grey and rainy, alike to that of Manchester.  The forecast is to quote the locals very poor (http://www.bbc.com/weather/1809858) – just hitting 20-24C next week.
Nikki wants some plimsole shoe things.  In Houjie, where we live, you cannot move for shoeshops.  Every second shop sells belts, sunglasses or accessories in some form.  Every building, be that shop or house seems to sell shoes.  This place caters for millipedes, with tiny feet.

This past week has been all about preparing lessons for the coming week – and activities for my Grade 5 (10-12 years old), Grade 7 (12/13/14) and Grade 8 (13/14/15) classes.  I have regular classes (around 40 students), VIP classes (8 to 14 students) and classes for PE teachers or English teachers to learn English better.

Tonight, we met several more foreign teachers, a Russian called Ginny, a lad from Cambridge called Adam and his partner Nicky from That London way.  They came with several Chinese teachers for grub at the market.  Nikki seemed to be enjoying hersefl, having shaken off a mild form of man flu manifested in a cough and general aches/pains.  Nowt serious thankfully.

Right time to watch Uncle, downloaded from BBC3 recently.

Zai Jian!

Rest assured it is centre not center

14 Mar 2014

Wǎnshàng hǎo!  Good evening!

“Teacher, you have spelled kilometre wrong!”  Back off American spellings?  No, I had to explain the difference between USA American English and proper English from proper England.  I even avoided a debate on oven bottoms, muffins and barmcakes (cobs etc) – I think here, just calling a bread roll, a bread roll is enough food for though (pun intended).

This week I have succumbed to using a VPN service (roughly £5.70/month) as access to a proper search engine is needed.  BBC iPlayer, Facebook and Twitter is a bonus, that said I won’t spend too much time on them.  A bigger bonus being that I can change the Internet Protocol address to other countries and watch their TV online… good bye free time, hello TV.  Scrap that, TV is not something I am missing that much.  It is good to watch some comedy on every now and then, but it is not essential.  Tonight, a group of us foreigners are off to a Korean BBQ place.  It doesn’t specify if the food is of south of north decent, I assume Korea is unifed it’s love for grub and hate of ostrich meat (topical… but where?).

This week has flown by, work is busy but very, very laid back.  Today, in one class a Chinese English teacher was asleep, in her custom made deck chair.  I wanted to take a photograph but didn’t want the students to notice… oh and no phones are allowed in class… so I didn’t.  It isn’t the first class this teacher has kipped in.  On a sidenote all students sleep from 1245hrs to 1330hrs daily in their classrooms, and most teachers follow suit.  Not me, too much to do.  I have to practice my ping-pong skills (or lack of).

Oh and the PE teachers thought I was scared of a giant spider in my office.  I was trying to catch it to take photos!!!  It was as big as my hand, grey (or gray, sicne 1825 AD in US of A) and quite flat looking, but immensely fast.

This May I have my eyes set on a trip to Hong Kong FC to see MCFC Under-21’s.  Fancy going?

Have a good weekend!

Gàobié / Goodbye!

John & Nikki

The oddity of scale

19 Mar 2014

G’day!

So many people, left, right, centre, behind, infront, all over.  1,363,370,000… and rising by 0.46% per year (ranked globally as 155th on the CIA World Factbook.  The U.K. is growing faster percentage-wise and ranks at 147.  China has 19.1% of the Earth’s people.  China’s official government bureau dedicated to statistics even has its own clock to show the ups and downs.  China has around 141 people per square kilometre, compared to the UK’s 262 people per square kilometre.  So why does it alway feel busy?

Welcome to MegaCity One (one for the graphic novel geeks).  711,820,000 people in China live in large towns, conurbations and cities.  In the U.K., 79.6% of people live in an urban environment.  In China, it equates to around 50% (and rising).  The percentage of arable land set free for farming here is much higher than the UK, as such, 943 people are sustained on each km squares of arable land to the U.K.’s 1077.   China has lots of ghost cities, towns, shopping centres and sparse unpopulated built up areas.  Of the 16 gargantuan apartment blocks I live in, the vast majority stand dormant, dust-ridden and bidding for new occupiers.  One such example was on TV recently here (and after searching online via a very colourful search engine), I have read more into Ordos.  Have a gander, loads of opportunities there.

Anyway, last night I joined Nikki, Bryony, Becky and Bri with the lads (Liam, James, Esben) at the square.  Life here never seems to stop.  At 5pm the roads and public areas are busy, the same at 7pm, 8pm, 9pm etc.  The girls danced in a local version of China’s Got Talent (a big square full of couples and kids, cheap disco lights provided by rollerskate-clad kids zooming by and Chinese music of the disco kind).  Meanwhile us lads (less Esben who fell over in a recent shower accident and gashed his feet – this is his second such fall in as many months) played football with the local children.  I say football, I mean, I’ll pass, James’ll half-pass, Liam will pass, then the local kid smashes the ball at… a) a fellow local kid; b) an innocent passer by; c) in the mush of one of our group’s face.  Proper good clean fun.  Last night we even had a local man join us and show us his silky skills.  There is always a real sense of community and welcoming here.  And dust…

Dust, more dust and dirt.  There is no three second rule.  Chinese people squat to talk or sit somewhere clean.  The floor has no seat,  bags are held onto and not placed down, and anything dropped is pretty much discarded.  Streets have order on the whole, litter is few and far between, there is always a hand road-sweeper to erm… hand.  There is more dust than I care to imagine.  Houjie is under the process of building a major shopping area, new hotel area and railway line.  On top of that every second block has some form of minor re-construction or other building work.  Esben, Liam, James, Bri, Becky and Bryony all live in a block for interns.  On Saturday, they were kept hostage by building work.  The 7-storey building adjacent was occupied last Thursday.  By Friday it was empty.  The top floor relocated to the floor below.  On Saturday morning, the builders blocked the interns into their apartment.  Gravity and physics brought all remaining blocks to the road – blocking the interns’ front door (until around 6pm).  Things just happen here.  No warning signs, no roadblocks, nothing to indicate health and safety.  If Rosie (Health and Safety) at Aviva could see this, she’d be flabbergasted!

That night we went to KTV (Karaoke).  The Chinese love it.  We met the interns, Randy, Armstrong, Vanetia, another Nikki and Mike from a different school at the market for food, crossed the road around 9pm, paid 98 Yuan [around £9.80] (for all 13 of us, including snacks, and 6 drinks to be shared) – it being about 4 Yuan a drink thereafter (about 40p).  In KTV you get a booth/private room (with ensuite Chinese toilet, nowt to shout about), a TV and Karaoke computer ad 2 microphones.  You then murder every song possible.  The selection methods are odd but many western classics are on there.  Each is butchered accordingly.  13 people, 13 lots of differing tastes and a considerable mess later we head home.  For marriage reasons I cannot mention Nikki as being on the porcelain blower to God that night, but to be fair, she had been on the local brandy, and had lager.  Cider and rum being nowhere to be seen.  Ford the record, I sang a couple of songs, badly.  Your rain is on me.

Yesterday, I was bitten on my left cheek (face not bottom) by a mosquito.  Bite number 3 of the Chinese adventure.  I’m fairly certain Nikki has not been preyed upon by the airborne biting fraternity.

Thought of t’ day:  0.83% of Chinese people speak English.  Welcome to job security and demand to all English Teachers.

Local forecast:  (Imperial measurements) (metric methods)

Who’ve we got out here then?

  • Becky, early 20s, from Birmingham/Sutton Coldfield area.  Softly spoken, mean sense of humour when her partner in crime Bryony allows her chance to speak.  You never see Becky or Bryony separately.  They are not Siamese.  Becky is often seen in dresses, she suits them a lot.  Becky teachers in a Kindergarten linked to the school but approximately 10 minutes away by bicycle.  I believe Becky is from the mental health profession originally.  How admirable.
  • Birgitte, AKA Bri, Bree etc, mid-to-early 20s, Norwegian.  Her accent is American.  She looks American.  There is an apple tattooed on one of her wrists, she lived in New York for a while.  Norwegians appear blonder and certainly more fair-skinned.  Bree is going on to teaching at University after this TEFL placement.
  • Bryony, early 20s, from Scarborough/Whitby way, British.  At first I thought Bryony was mouthy, loud and possibly obnoxious.  I could not have been more wrong.  She is just loud.  Brighter than she makes out, a good conversationalist and passionate about teaching the wee ones in Kindergarten.  Her eyes are steel-willed and intense, I will not pick an argument with her at any stage soon.  I think Bryony is pretty down to Earth, a proper Yorkshire type.
  • Esben, from Denmark, around 21.  Dippy, clumsy, accident prone, naive but generally very friendly.  His sense of humour is different.  Still a puppy that is well travelled and needs to relax and stop trying hard to be popular.  Esben loves his hair and beard too much.  Vanity issues.  I think he is the youngest of a few brothers.  He seems to like drinking and living up to a Viking stereotype.  I’ll keep him away from the villages…
  • James, below 20, from Ramsbottom or Rawtenstall, East Lancashire way.  If James was any more laid back he would devolve or become Mork from Mork & Mindy.  He is very giddy over things like dinosaurs and politics but means well.  He can sleep in the average nightclub, with all speakers blazing Justin Bieber or some god awful racket about the fox’s choice of speech.
  • Liam, acts 12, is 18, from Weymouth, Dorset, U.K.  A little boy, but bright, competitive but non-threatening.  He’s different because he is from Southern England, Bath is Barrrtttthhhhfff. He isn’t one of them hoity-toity types.  He seems to be like peas in a pod with James, they’ll miss each other after China.  They may even get married to each other.
  • Simon, early 20s, Swedish.  Stereotype lived up to.  Rarely seen with other foreign teachers, he regards himself as a “token white person.”  He does openly admit to being here for inter-racial relations with the locals.

Not a bad bunch here, very little character clashes so far and certainly no backstabbing or bitching – unless I’m the topic of conversation (unlikely as I am boring).  If you are one of the above and you feel my descriptions have been less than satisfactory, you know where you can recycle the letters and write your own prose or elegy.

That’s all folks!

Something flu by

2014-03-20 03:54:41.0

Dear diary… dear friend… dear John… etc

Sat’day afternoon I was feeling groggy, but nowt major.  Sunday, I seemed to perk up but occasionally had a bout of dizziness.  Monday, my voice, came and went several times over.  I had three classes, it was a managable day.  Tuesday, three classes later and I felt awful.  Along popped Wednesday and cold sweats, hot flushes and every part of me ached.  For two days I have been to bed early.  Today, I feel worse, yet yesterday I seemed to get better as the day went on.  Today, I ache.  Have I been to the gym?  This morning, Bright, the head of department informed us foreign teachers, the sudden change from cool to hot temperatures brings a seasonal flu. That may explain the numbers of sneezing, coughing and spluttering students that are in classes.  There is the odd empty seat as students are off for vaccinations etc too.

Oh and spitting is massively normal and accepted in China.  Hock one up, the bigger the better and gob it out, walls and floors are acceptable.  I won’t be joining this habit!  Yuck.  Great way to control flu…

In the U.K., I pretty much would not have gone to work like this.  Here it is expected, deathbed or doctors before you consider a day off.  It hasn’t been an easy day.  I have not finished my powerpoint presentations or games & activities for next week.  I have done my lesson plans for the 18 classes.  Maybe tonight I will finish, if I stay awake.  Today’s classes have felt like a strain, a burst of enthusiasm seems out of reach.  My Grade 5 students bounced around happily and I just managed to keep them on the right side of anarchy.  Meanwhile my Grade 8 students were half asleep, tired by a combination of hot weather, P.E. classes and flu symptoms.  A half-inert teacher did not inspire them greatly!  The four-in-a-row and racing car games got their attention, mind you!

For lunch we had an option of beef (mostly fat), seaweed and chillis (do not eat when ill or dehydrated) or fishheads (whole) in chilli with green leaves or finally soup.  There is always lots of white rice.  Always.  So rice and beef was today’s lunch time choice for me.  Nikki can eat in my school canteen but opts to eat at her school (they get way more choice, noodles, dumplings etc).  Most foreign teachers avoid “fish-head Thursday.”  I have tried it, but there isn’t much meat on a noggin of any fish.  The eyes taste horrid too.  The brain isn’t that bad.  I’d recommend that.

Anyway off for dinner (evening meal or tea) now.

Ta’ra!

John (Nikki will write soon!)

Maintain lane discipline

2014-03-23 02:47:16.0

Yesterday, we fancied a wander.  In this neck of Houjie, there is the odd park, a river and some sports parks to explore but nowt major to shout about.  So, we set off around noon, the temperature a mild 23C, from our gaff to Nancheng (between here and Dongguan centre).  Two and a smidgen hours later (via a food place that was playing Christmas songs in English) we arrived in Dongguan city centre.  Along the S256 Guantai Road, we deiced we’d head for Dongguan city centre.  13.7km later we arrived at a welcoming park with a half-drained pond, some sort of Chinese talent show stage and a concrete screen of animals you can no longer see as they have been eaten.

Dongguan is massive, but not as big as Guangzhou or London.  It does have some pretty big open spaces in the centre.  The parklands stretch up through the cityscape like a snake descending a tree.  Dongguan markets itself on being green, it isn’t far off.  With our Here Dongguan map and monthly magazine we wandered around aimlessly.  The odd English poster was to be found adorned the odd shop window about ex-pat activities.  Dongguan appeared very new, international but lacking of old buildings and traditional Chinese decor.

The park wasn’t bad, then we had a gander in a shop and Nikki now has some more minions… and I have a bottle of Captain Morgan’s spiced rum for 元91.  Yey!  We had a wrap with something carrot and bread based in, very light indeed

On the way back we grabbed a taxi (after walking from Dongguan centre to Nancheng bus station – nowhere near the city centre!  It is worth noting the other bus station by the South China Mall is much further away too!) and it cost a massive 元23 (or £2.30) for a 20 minute ride back.  Taxi rides, coach journeys and other trips along the road are interesting.  There appears to be very few rules on the road.  Generally cars switch lanes like some wild version of roulette and lanes are optional at the best of times.  Cycles, mopeds, scooters, or three wheeled taxi bike efforts can use pavements, roads (regardless of direction of the lane) head on, alongside, through red lights – with no hint of regulation, and if the Police are present, there is again no rules.  Maybe I should get them to consider cycle helmets.

This week I am mostly trying to learn numbers in Mandarin… and they have a smidgen of logic… but are damn hard to understand.

〇           líng 0

一           yī 1

二           èr 2

三           sān 3

四           sì 4

五           wǔ 5

六           lìu 6

七           qī 7

八           bā 8

九           jiǔ 9

十           shí 10

十一     shíyī  11

十九     shíjiǔ 19

二十     èrshí  20

二十一  èrshíyī   21

二十八  èrshíbā 28

三十     sānshí 30

三十二   sānshíèr 32

四十     sìshí  40

五十     wǔshí  50

六十     lìushí  60

七十     qīshí  70

八十     bāshí 80

九十     jiǔshí  90

一百     yībǎi  100

And, to close please visit http://acton28.wix.com/a28 to see photographs on the tab marked Spring In China.

Ta’ra!

Tasty little things

30 Mar 2014

Tuesday came, Tuesday went – and with it high humidity for the best part of the day.  Somewhere between Tuesday night and Wednesday morning my body had become an all-you-eat buffet for mosquitoes.  My left arm has gained two prize winning bites; my right hand was not spared a nibble; the left forearm had a bite; my lower back had two lumps of feeding frenzy and my ankle (right on the sockline) copped for one too.  So yesterday, I was a tad itchy but resisted – and still each bite falred up like a dod displaying it’s breeding lipstick (too graphic?  Tough, my bites are bigger than the dome of St Paul’s Cathedral).  Today (Friday), I find another additional chomp mark by my left eye.  So, how do you avoid mosquitoes?  Nuclear war seems the only viable option.  That, and tonight I shall stock up on coils of mosquito repellent at tesco (or our other local supermarket).  The mosquito net (in our otherwise mosquito free apartment shall be put up, just in case).  Deet and the alternatives are at hand.  Not so I can avoid being bitten, moreso to avoid canine penial metaphors.  It could be worse Briony has a massive 28 bites from one evening.  From nowehere came the winged terrors.

Good news is here.  On Thursday, I invested in a bicycle (the seat stem had Giant Butted written on it, a selling point of ever there was one).  Bad news is equally here.  Last night I suffered my first punctured tyre.  The roads here are littered with bits of metal, glass and shards of the wastes of life.  I have a pump.  I own a helmet (practically the only bike helmet in China – and one that fits too).  I also have a rear bike light.  Bikes here (scooters and motorbikes too) rarely have lights.  Cars often never use them too.  I’ve seen artics travelling poorly lit streets in our area with what i can only describe as two Tesco value torches fastened to the front.  Anyway, tonight I shall buy lubricant and a puncture repair kit for my bike.  Nikki hasn’t got a bike yet.  That is something we shall sort this week.

This weekend, starting Friday, I intend to go to the pub ran by the wife of Marcus (a Maori bloke).  We had a pub quiz there last Wednesday night.  Our team came second but with the team name “Liam’s Mum’s Tribute” as the least imaginative team name going, we didn’t deserve first place.  The team that came first had and average age of 55.  Our team’s mean average age was closer to 25.  The round on US aircraft threw us out a bit but we still came 2nd that round but we lost many points in the music introduction round.  It turns out Otis Redding and Elvis Presley are not our collective strong point.  Next time we’ll win!

On Tuesday, we wandered to a local temple, (see the map for our location by Liosha Road/Liaoxia).  It was very pretty, and had some good views.  Photos will follow at some point.

At school this week I have had two very quiet days, Wednesday and Thursday being month end exams for my grade 7 and 8 students.  So with that, 8 classes were cancelled.  Feet up?  I think not.  I was asked if I’d like to teach kindergarten (Nikki teaches them).  It turns out the two kindergarten schools located next to my school are linked with my school and another.  Nikki’s kindergarten shares facilities but not graduating students.  So, James, Birgitte (referred to as Bri), Briony (known as Amy due to kindergarten students not being able to say Briony), Kelly (another foreign teacher from a local kindergarten) joined forces to prepare for Friday’s demo/recruitment class.

This morning started with weather (sunny, cloudy, rainy, and windy – complete with actions), the days of the week, a body parts song (heads, shoulders… knees and toes) before moving onto a song based on fingers and clapping.  Twenty minutes later, a bucket of sweat (we were outdoors in 28C) we sat down and watched the entire school (less grade 1, 7 and 8) perform a dance routine.  Not as bad day, but not something I am keen to repeat.  As great and as enthusiastic as nursery/kindergarten schoolm children are, they’re too tiny.

This Sunday I am tempted by the Science Museum in Dongguan (for the dinosaur exhibition etc).  We have to pass on the local comedy night due to our not-too-impressive-lack-of-Mandarin.

One for next month?   This looks ace!!!!  We’re expecting a long weekend too (so this is on our radar).

**written on Friday, published Sunday early hours**

Happy Mothering Sunday…

30 Mar 2014

…to my mum, mother-in-law, all the wonderful mothers around the world, and the mothers no longer with us.  You make us, you shape us, you support us x

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