After cooling the delicious watermelons in a river, the Typhoon Hongxia’s first storm hit. Twigs and small branches rattled down onto the metal rooftops of a shanty-like eating village at the river. The river level rose covering all stones and the edge of the pathway. Our group awaited a short time of little downpour before jumping in a car back to the house.

Bamboo scaffolding has always impressed me. Coming from a place that rarely has anything but steel scaffolding or heavy duty frames, the comparison to that of long slender bamboo poles is distinctive. Each rod of bamboo is marked with natural offshoots and imperfections. Yet somehow the strength seems to hold. I know that in Hong Kong there are strict regulations on this material. I guess the same is present on mainland China. The lightweight material grows fast on farms and in the wild. I’d imagine its cost to be far below any of the metal options. It being binded by ropes and threads must make it easier to install too. I wonder who inspects for rot, infestation, or structural defects. That must take time and skill. These lattice of bamboo are impressive to see framing new and old buildings. I salute the bamboo scaffolding industry and its 800 years or so of usage.

Three wheel carts, vans, and bikes have been the mainstay of delivery drivers throughout China since horses made way for engines. Nowadays the fuel tends to be from a battery compartment. Nevertheless, these tuktuk-like vehicles can be found from the city to the countryside. The auto rickshaw is here to stay, providing people stop using their phones at the handlebars and online shipping remains constant. I would certainly like to see more of these trikes in the UK, subject to the same driving rules and regulations of motorised vehicles.

We were lucky, in respect of Typhoon Hongxia, which left a trail of flooding, felled-trees, toppled fences, and other human-made structures strewn in its pathway. The overnight brunt of the storm seemed to hit like a bombing raid. Trees seemingly exploded like matchsticks as each gust struck like an angry wall. The air indoors seemed to be pulled out leaving alternating vacuums of coolness and pockets of heat. It was deafening loud at times. Every joint in each window rattled, yet held firm, as sounds of crashing carried from the garden complex outside. Nature holds us in its hands and we should never forget it!

Following the stormy arrival, a platter of succulent fruits, barbecue sticks in cumin-rich sauce, and trays of snacks punctuated the following days of the storm. We were lucky and distracted. Or unlucky. If like I, you chose the durian bread roll. How stinky!!!