Village Station

The driver of the taxi asked why I was heading out so early. I had told him the train time. He replied, I was “going to station with nothing there.” I said all was well. He repeated that the South station was bigger. The North station is new. Nothing there.

On arrival, I exited the car and strode into the mammoth station. The same station had been visible for miles before. It towered over fields and stood out against the distant mountain backdrop. Construction sights lay to the south. The future, planted over land. Towering carcasses of homes yet to be lived in.

The small station door opened to a gargantuan air-conditioned palace of seats and emptiness. Little life lurked within. A few stragglers ahead of their train sat in the bright space, gloomily surrounded by thoughts and little else. Two places to buy snacks and food shone light outwards. Little else, but the beaming display screens gave any sense of activity. A list of a dozen trains spaced throughout a long barren day highlighting the newness of it all.

After a brief wait, a mouthful of terrible coffee and a chicken-based something or other, I descended to the platforms below. Through one of four gates marked a route to the ten platforms beneath. Four future platforms failed to hide their newness and dust. My gate, 2B, stretched wide before passages led down shiny steps and a string of escalators beating the sound of passage.

The long platform stretched under the concrete mass above. Polished tiles on the footway stretched hundreds of yards each direction. A dozen railway train carriages could fit under here, ten times over. Each tenth of the station could welcome and bid farewell to hordes of people, masses of commuters, and reunite the long divided souls of relationships come and gone.

The platform edge, trimmed in white and yellow, displayed floor electronic information boards, guidance, and warned of peril beyond its edge. Each rail beneath and cable above a guide for the monstrous intercity trains. I watched as the smooth gliding train rolled seamlessly along rails into a wide pit beneath the station platforms. It crept to a silent halt. The few passengers boarded. I waited until last. I stepped on board. The journey begins.

Outside In.

Back to China? It was a certainty. A given ordained by Gods and the hands of destiny.

From Manchester International Airport to Istanbul, the first flight with Turkish Airlines was smooth. Smoother still if they’d allowed me the legroom I requested. Still, job done. The huge delay in Istanbul for the connecting flight allowed for opportunities to walk the vast airport and recharge a phone battery by cycle. Why not? When in Istanbul and delayed, take the time to unwind in your own way. If fate is there, do as you must.

Airborne and floating on science, the aircraft was sleepy to Hong Kong. As was I. Life on hold and destiny delivered by expert piloting, a movie was called for. Having watched Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, I needed something jolly and upbeat. Up step, the Billy Elliot of golfing movies, The Phantom of The Open. Talk about entertainment. A delightful movie ebbing and flowing with heart, wit, and polished acting. A truly remarkable tale based on a true story.

From a PCR test at Hong Kong International Airport to temporary digs in Mong Kok, fast forward to a 5.28am alarm bell. Up, up, and away. After a pleasant walk, the train from Kowloon awaited. Customs cleared simply. Checked in eventually. The train to Humen was fairly nondescript, as nondescript 300km/hour vehicles go. Next up, the Humen railway station to Humen Dongguan underground station, through dingy construction areas, and onto a 6RMB subway train to Xiping. Walking the short walk to Xiping Xi station, I clutched my 50RMB in notes that I still had from leaving China. With that, I boarded a train bound for Huizhou.

And that is where the story ends for now. So, what now?

Leave only footprints. 请只留下脚印

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

Run boy run sang by Bugzy Malone featuring Rag N Boneman is a soulful grime song. It shares its title with Woodkid’s Run Boy Run as featured on the album The Golden Age. There are so many songs that have the theme of escape or running away. Think Everybody’s on The Run, as belted out by former-Oasis man Noel Gallagher. You’ve got to love yourself these days. Bruce Springsteen sums it up with his song, Born to run. Either way, running right now feels as if a knife is embedded deep into my right calf. I’m certainly in no hurry to pick up the top 100 running songs albums or exercise megahit CDs that usually line the shelves in the run up to Christmas.

So, in order to occupy my recovery with a target, I’ve been digging around. And it all makes sense. Everywhere I look there are hints. In recent weeks I have seen shoes presenting the brand of Khumbu. A message appeared in my inbox from Srirang and Livia about their springtime plans. China had a recent movie release called The Climbers, focused on very early Everest expeditions. There was even an email in my junk email box from Everest Windows. On WeChat, I received a message from a Sherpa friend. But, above all that, my heart is longing for the glory of walking amongst the Himalayan mountain range. There is a deep-seething hunger that hasn’t gone away since the day I stepped from the bus onto the soil of the Jiri road in 2017. Seeing those mountains stretching west, east, north and climbing from the clouds of Nepal, on that bus journey has captured me. I read of many people, famous and unknown to the masses, that returned year after year – and everyone I met there had either returned or had immediate plans to come back. Whether it is the spirits of the mountains, the allure of the nature or the warmth of the people, Nepal gets into your skin. A small country with a big heart.

Deep down, my heart is torn. I want to go home and see family for Christmas, yet circumstances have worked against me. My sister Astrid will probably be most disappointed, but she’ll be the first one I’d like to take away in the summer holidays of 2020. I wish I could be there for all my family but I’m selfish. I want to see and do more whilst I still can. There should be plenty of time to make good memories in the future. You can’t have it all. The world is too big and too diverse for one lifetime.

So, Makalu, Manaslu or a trek near to Annapurna called are now on my radar. Makalu is a serious beast and February is noted as being too cold to attempt that trek. Plus, it has an offshoot trek that can get you back onto the path to Lukla – the famous Everest trail. However, that’s proper mountaineering actually – and rope climbing. Not quite the rambling I wish to do, right now. As a route it looks amazing, with diverse tropical valleys, temperate zones and then some serious Himalayan tundra. Plus, you get to see the world’s highest mountain range from a new angle – and all those glorious peaks in between there an India’s Sikkim.

Tumlingtar 285m – Mane Bhanjyang 1440m  – Chichara 1980m – Num 1851m – Sheduwa/Sedua 1500m – Tashi Gaon 2100m – Khongma/Kauma 3760m – [REST/ acclimatisation] – Dobato 3700m – Jark(Yak) Kharka 4800m – Hilary Base Camp 4800m – Makalu Base Camp 4870m – and back again…

Manaslu really seems inviting. There is need for a Restricted Area Permit (RAP) [USD50-100 +15/day over 7 days] because it touches the sensitive regions of the Tibetan-Chinese border. You also need the Manaslu Conservation Area permit [NPR2000] and the Annapurna Conservation Area Project (ACAP) entry fee [NPR3,000]. There are quoted trekking times of 14-22 days, depending on fitness and whether you explore the Tsum Valley. If that is the case then this area could allow time to fly to Meghauli Airport and get over to Chitwan national nature reserve. Rhinos and mountains. Tempting, very tempting.

Soti khola (710m) – 14km Machha Khola (900m) – 22km to Jagat (1340m) – 20km to Deng (2095m) – 19km to Namrung (2900m) – 10.5km to Lho Gaun (3180m) – 8km to Samagaun (3500m) – [REST/ acclimatisation: Pungyen Gompa or Manaslu Base Camp ] – 8km to Samdo (3690m) excursion to Tibet border – 6km to Dharmasala (4450m) – Larkya La Pass (5220m) 24km to Bhimphedi (3590m) – Gho (2515 m), 26km to Tilje (2300m) – 19km to Chyamche  (1410m) – Besisahar – and back again…

The third option is Dhaulagiri’s base camp trek which a friend has recommended highly. Highly being an appropriate word because it will be quite amongst the clouds. Ranked 7th globally, Dhaulagiri (धौलागिरी) stands at a dramatic 8,167m. The massif is the highest mountain within a single country’s borders. Dhawala (धवल) translates to dazzling, white, beautiful and giri (गिरि) is mountain. Its parent peak is K2. From 1808 until 1838 it was listed as the world’s highest point until Kangchenjunga was surveyed. Dhaulagiri I’s peak has a sudden rise. In just 30km of distance it juts up a staggering 7000 metres from the Kali Gandaki River to the southeast. The south and west face have equally dramatic 4000m rises too! The climbing history is dramatic and marked with deaths. The south face has never been completed. Plenty of contours on the trekking routes too. Might be worth further consideration and research

Trek Beni to Babichaur ( 1000m / 3280ft ) 6-7 hrs; Babichaur to Dharapani ( 1565m / 5134ft ) 7 hrs; Dharapani to Muri ( 1850m / 6068ft ) 6.5 hrs; Muri to Boghara ( 2050m / 6724ft ) 7.5 hrs; Boghara to Dhoban ( 2630m / 8626ft ) 6 hrs; Dhoban to Italian Base camp ( 3500m / 11,480ft ) 6-7 hrs; Rest and Acclimatization day; Italian Base camp to Glacier camp ( 4250m / 13,940ft ) 5 hrs; Dhaulagiri Base camp ( 4650m / 15,252ft ) 4 hrs; Acclimatization day; Dhaulagiri Base Camp to French Col 4 hrs; Hidden Valley Camp ( 5000m / 16,400ft ); Hidden Valley to Yak Kharka (4200m / 13,776ft) 6 hrs; Yak Kharka to Jomsom ( 2,715m / 8,910ft ) 7-8 hrs

 

Yesterday, as part of the recovery from my calf muscle tear, I hobbled up Baiyunzhang (白云嶂) in Huizhōu (惠州). It is 1003m tall, and in warm sunshine it certainly felt every metre as high, as we’d started from about 150m. Nick, Milly and Almog made good company on the dry walk upwards. The golden meadow at the summit was worth the wander having stumbled up dry dirt paths and tested my aching calf muscle beyond that of what I should have done. Around the uneven loose sands and slippery pathways birds tweet away and snakes slither through the undergrowth, oblivious to those who walk the well-defined path upwards. Unlike the sun-exposed first and last sections of the path, the middle section is under canopy. Here mosquitoes dart in front of your eyes, more keen on your warm blood than your desire to trek upwards.

Leave only footprints.  [ 请只留下脚印 qǐng zhǐ liú xià jiǎo yìn ]

The trail up Baiyunzhang (meaning ‘white cloud sheer ridge’) is sadly surrounded by so much discarded litter and rubbish. It is sad to see. Passing fellow hikers on the route, they all had bags and pockets. There is no excuse for trail waste. Perhaps we should all greet each other along the route with a phrase, “Leave only footprints.”  [ 请只留下脚印 qǐng zhǐ liú xià jiǎo yìn ]

Huizhou’s other mountains for hiking are: Luofu Mountain (罗浮山), Nankun Mountain (南昆山), Xiangtou Mountain (象头山), Jiulongfeng (九龙峰), Lotus Mountain (莲花山), Baima Mountain (白马山), Wumaguicou (五马归槽), Baiyunzhang (白云嶂), Honghuazhang (红花嶂), Xieyan Top (蟹眼顶), Pingtianzhang (坪天嶂), Wuqingzhang (乌禽嶂), Axe Stone (斧头石), Xianren Village (仙人寨), Guifeng Mountain (桂峰山) and Sanjiao Mountain (三角山).

Next weekend I am looking for a hike in the Shenzhen area. Perhaps Maluan Shan Mountain (马峦山, address: 深圳市区东北方向约50公里的龙岗区坪山街道马峦村 – Xinxiu metro statio) or Dananshan (大南山) or the pretty looking peak of Wutong Shan Mountain (梧桐山, address: 深圳羅湖區梧桐山村 – bus 211 from Cuizhu metro station exit B2). So, with this all in mind, I’m going for a walk now and a little think…

 

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

Farting Fair Play & Harry Hole

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


wx_camera_1547690585098

CHAMPIONS – AGAIN (& Financial fair play)

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

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

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

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

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


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


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


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


 

Fair Play.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


anfield may 2008 (6)

You’ll never walk alone.

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


wx_camera_1547690585098

What is fair market value?

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

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

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

07 AUG 2004 CITY 3 LAZIO 1 (10)

Record Matched & Unbroken

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

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

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


index

Jo Nesbo

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


mmexport1555249975866.jpg

A peak too far.

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

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

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

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

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

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


 

“Got it.”

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


 

The world is full of bullshit.

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


 

How does one measure a fart?

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

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


 

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