Pretty in Pink

The inner 80s child in me reckons this song should've got to the top of the charts and stayed there for multiple weeks.

The film of the same name, released in 1986, stars 80s teen movie queen Molly Ringwald.

That is all for now. I just wanted to share!

Wi-Fi (not) on the line?

So thanks to the fact that lately Twitter has been my major source of info anything-related, it's come to my attention that Transport for London are planning to introduce Wi-Fi services on the London Underground. All well and good, thanks very much. But, given that they're not going to be introducing it on the actual trains, does beg the question - why? If you're using the tube at rush hour, it's never more than 2-3min wait for the next train. How much googling/tweeting does one expect to do in that time..?

However, I acknowledge that it would be especially beneficial to have an outlet for commuters' anger when tubes are delayed/evacuated/too packed.

Though I'd also imagine that pretty soon they'd have to mock up some TfL advisory posters, along the lines of "I will not unwittingly hit into people in stations and on platforms while I've my nose buried in my Wi-Fi enabled device."

(Photo found here - thank you!)

Four weeks with...China! [Part 1]

Given the fact that I've not blogged since returning from China, you'd be forgiven for thinking I was still on that train from Weihai to Beijing. Alas, my oriental adventure is over and I am back to all the things that I left behind.

My last week in China was mainly spent in true tourist style, ambling round places like the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace and the Temple of Heaven, in complete wonder and awe at these magnificent structures and their painstakingly detailed features (taking a total of 204 photos in 5 days). I don't think my descriptions of these places would do them justice, but there was a distinct sense of grandeur about all of them that I've never quite come across before.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony

The Forbidden City is right in the heart of Beijing, just behind Tienanmen Square, and a portrait of Chairman Mao welcomes you in if you're entering from the south side. It's basically a city within a city - a moat and walls enclose it from all sides - and it was the home of Chinese emperors for almost 500 years. It's comprised of various ceremonial buildings, officials' quarters, the Imperial Garden, and even a concubines' courtyard. I was pretty determined to walk round the whole thing and I spent a good five hours in there, but I'm still convinced there was more to be seen.

White Dagoba

A short walk from the north side of the Forbidden City is Beihai Park; (I assume) it's most famous for the White Dagoba, a Buddhist temple, which has been built on the highest point of the island in the lake (which covers more than half of the park). There were still lots of decorations up in the park marking the 15-odd days of the Spring Festival. It was a fairly tricky walk up to the dagoba, the snow had left a treacherous layer of ice on many sets of stairs and during the descent I did wonder if I'd make it out the park alive...

Mounted speaker

...but I discovered a few days later that, actually, the Temple of Heaven was definitely the most dangerous of all the places I'd visited, since many of the stairs were made of marble and ended up being incredibly slippery in icy conditions. They'd been covered with a sort of string mesh to provide more grip but even this mesh ended up freezing itself into the ice, so I found myself silently praying to the gods of the Temple to allow me to live beyond that particular day.

Imperial Vault of Heaven

The Temple of Heaven is a collection of Taoist buildings, gates and temples mainly dedicated to prayer for good harvest. It's set in lush greenery and along the pathways there are mounted "speakers" playing quiet, tranquil music as you walk past. For me, the best thing about the Temple of Heaven was the Echo Wall, which surrounds the Imperial Vault of Heaven, and has the incredible feature of reflecting sound along its surface -someone stood speaking at one point along it can be heard by someone else stood at another point. I learnt a fair bit about Chinese music and instruments in the Music Administration Building, which is a fairly new addition of buildings, and I found the Palace of Abstinence - where the emperor would go to fast prior to a ceremony - particularly peaceful as no other visitors were around; it was a pleasant and welcome change.

Wednesday 8th February, 9.15pm, Train from Weihai to Beijing

We've just set off on our train journey back to Beijing. By stark contrast to our first train journey, we have "soft bed" tickets and are sharing a compartment with a girl who is also going to Beijing. We should be arriving tomorrow around lunchtime... so in about 13 hours!

The five days we spent in Weihai were mainly marked by copious amounts of alcohol; the Chinese really know how to make an occasion of drinking! When with a group of people, toasts seem to be the customary way of drinking your beverage. When someone toasts to you, you down your drink. When you toast someone else, you also down your drink. When a general toast is made to everyone, you again down your drink. So it comes to pass that more often than not you end up with with some rather staggered walking and slurred speaking post- lunch and dinner.

As a consequence, I've spent three out of the last four mornings waking up at 6am with a parched throat and have had to (drunkenly) stumble round the flat to find some water.

Last week we spent Chinese New Year at Keer's grandparents' place in Zibo. Dinner was a family affair (+ me!) where I got to sample the delicacies of - amongst other things - sea cucumber (very rubbery), pig's skin, pig's face, duck's tongue (surprisingly boney), ... Chinese restaurants are great - in most you can get a private booth and often on the table is a massive disc on which the food dishes get put, and they everyone is free to spin the disc as necessary to help themselves to what they fancy. I think I prefer this way of dining out. You certainly get to indulge your tastebuds.

Year of the Rabbit - me and my zodiac sign

It's traditional to burn yellow tissue paper in remembrance of one's forefathers on NYE, and indeed you couldn't walk more than a few meters down the road without coming across someone's ancestral fire.

The live TV countdown was basically on for the whole of the day (and the night) and there were so many entertainers they could easily put anything on BGT to shame. That was quite interesting to watch, and although I couldn't tell anyone apart, Keer informed me there were lots of groups that were representing the various ethnic minorities in China.

For the last week there's not been a day or night go by where there haven't been some fireworks set off in our vicinity. I don't think they stopped at all on NYE, 'til about 6am on NYD. In fact, yesterday as Keer and I left the flat we managed to walk right into someone's firecrackers which predictably started exploding while we just stood there screaming from shock.

Keer and I have treated ourselves to body massages the last two days at this blind masseurs' place...except not all the masseurs are blind. I'm not sure how I feel about this massage business - it's rather painful and I wonder if the benefits truly outweigh the pain. My bones feel quite sore.

Monday 7th February, 10.15am, Weihai

I've woken up with a horrific hangover. It would be acceptable to sleep it off if we weren't about to go and meet Weihai's Mayor for lunch.

Engaging in "philosophical discourse"

Things I remember from last night:

- indulging in "philosophical discourse" with Keer's dad about the merits of philosophy, with particular focus on the German and Ancient Greek writers

- having an (allergic?) reaction to "rice wine" [though I have since found out it's not made from rice] - it felt like my throat was constricting every time I took a sip...it didn't put me off though (?!), until I was told my face and neck had gone particularly red

- eating delicious seafood hotpot (Weihai is on the coast)

- playing some particularly bad pool

- singing some particularly good karaoke

- dropping my contacts and their case on the floor in the bathroom and spending a quarter of an hour - in vain - trying to find them

Things I don't remember from last night:

- how I got to bed

- where I put my shoes

- what it is that I did that has resulted in my tongue feeling like it's been dipped in a bowl of boiling water

Monday 31st Jan, 3.30pm, Zibo

So, as it turns out, the “little town” of Zibo where Keer grew up has a population of five million – that’s the equivalent of the number of cars on the streets of Beijing. And the number of people in Croatia.

We are currently at Keer’s grandma’s next door neighbour’s house, on our second tutoring session with the 14-year-old girl who lives here. We’ve been asked to help for a couple of hours every day with English and Maths. Keer’s in charge of the English bit since she can explain all in Chinese. I’ve been helping with trigonometry; it’s comforting to think that, although I am 5000 miles from home, Maths is still a language I can communicate in.

Last night was our first proper night out in China. The hair dresser that we met on Saturday – who cut and dyed my hair for 80RMB – took us to meet his friends at a club night in the centre of Zibo. First impression of Chinese clubbing – much like my first impressions of everything in China so far – mental! The music was exceptionally loud, the lights were dancing as much as the clubbers, and the strobes showed no sign of letting up at any point in the night.

The most bizarre bit of the night’s proceedings was the “light entertainment” – some singing to Lady Gaga’s Pokerface by a club circuit singer, a guy who made balloon animals (!) and spun bowls and kettles filled with boiling water on various poles (including a spatula) resting on his face, and a man who practised Kung Fu, and spent five minutes straining the air from his lungs into a 10-meter fireman’s hose to blow up – and subsequently burst – a rubber glove at the other end. Then it was time for some audience participation and, predictably, Keer dragged me onto the stage to take part in a “gameshow” contest involving transporting ping-pong balls from one end of the stage to the other, using only straws and the principles of suction. My designated partner and I placed second, and I walked away with a giant teddy! 

Having danced ourselves silly we made our way to one of the other floors of this gigantic entertainment complex (which also housed pool tables, video games, and God knows what else besides) and spent a happy few hours singing along to favourite karaoke tunes. The boys we were with treated us to many Chinese classics, the five of them at various stages of their vocal development.

I’ve been making a mental note of the Chinese “adages” we’ve been privy to; a couple of my favourites –
[upon noticing the goldfish at the hairdressers’] “Goldfish are a sign of prosperity!”
[upon entering aforementioned neighbour’s house] “Fat faces bring fortune!” The neighbours were rather excited to see a white face – “This is too good!”. Wondering round the streets of Zibo is what I imagine it might be like to be a Z-list celebrity – people stare as you walk past, trying to figure out if their eyes are deceiving them, and at the same time wondering if such interest should genuinely be warranted.

Saturday 29th Jan, 2.50am, Train from Beijing to Zibo

Four hours into our six-hour journey, we are sat next to the carriage door – me sharing our suitcase with a 20-year-old girl, and Keer on sitting opposite on someone’s duffel bag. Just as well, because the condensation on the bendy bit (where we’d been stood earlier), has rapidly been turning into ice – we are officially travelling on a train with an interior temperature below zero degrees. If I stare long enough at the ceiling, I may make out the change-of-state when the drips turn to stalactites.

The mood has become more jovial as everyone starts sharing cigarettes and realising- to borrow David Cameron’s phrase (originally coined in High School Musical) – we’re all in this together!

My breath is coming out as white mist and, despite donning on my spare pair of socks (and my York hoodie under the newly-bought ski-jacket [200RMB from Silk Street]), I may or may not have frostbite in some or all of my toes – especially the big left one.

Friday 28th Jan, 11.30pm,Train from Beijing to Zibo

Our train was at 10.48pm. We turned up with about 40 minutes to spare. Beijing Railway Station (image courtesy of this blog - thanks!) was absolutely mental! Hordes and hordes of people were packed outside the entrance forming an incredible unmoving mass. We befriended a Jamaican man on our subway journey to the station who’s lived in China for eight years teaching English, French & German. He hopes to start work for the Jamaican embassy in two years. If his English is anything to go by, there are going to be a lot of crossed wires between China and Jamaica.

I half-carried, half-dragged our joint suitcase through the crowds. Chinese officials were trying to direct the (literally) thousands of people into some sort of ordered mess. Our Jamaican friend was convinced we wouldn’t make it to the train on time. Keer pulled my hood down, telling me to “show them your white face” – a phrase she’s used a lot lately – and the three of us, with our mix of white, black and yellow, somehow managed to blag our way through the masses and to the front of the station.

Luckily the Jamaican guy was catching the same train as us; we ran alongside him for a full five minutes before reaching our platform. I’ve never seen such a long train in my life! Carriage after carriage fit to burst with bodies every which way. The Jamaican had been fortunate enough to get a “bed” ticket, and we left him some four carriages from our own – carriage 7 – lucky for some, but not so much for us. Upon reaching it, there seemed hardly any space to board. Keer translated the train guard’s authoritative barking as “Move down, move down, make space for our foreign friends!” No idea how the two of us – officially the fattest people in China – got on with our suitcase. Genuinelly did not think there was an inch of space for any more travellers – how very wrong I was! A group of about five people turned up, all demanding to be let on and allowed through as they had “seated” tickets. It all got a bit tense – everyone convinced they couldn’t move any further, and one of the girls from the newly-arrived group kept poking me and askimg me if I too had “seated” tickets – “No!” – and could I let her through – “Keer, tell her I have nowhere to move and the guy in front of me needs to move first as there is a suitcase between me and him, so I couldn’t possibly let her pass!”

Anyway, I suppose the total lack of space was merely an illusion as we’ve found ourselves in the bendy bit between two carriages with definitely enough room to at least do a 270-degree turn. It’s also become quite evident why there are only four of us stood here – there’s condensation forming on all surfaces and dripping down. Like an indoor rain cloud.

Tuesday 25th Jan, 7.20pm, Beijing

I have found some LAN internet access where we are now staying – in the centre of Beijing, in an apartment, kindly and quickly sorted out by Keer’s father. I am zipping Keer in and out of various dresses as she potters about getting ready for our night “on the town”.

Spot the Westerner

Yesterday we queued for train tickets to Zibo...for four hours. Four hours! Upon reaching the ticket office and requesting a train for the 31^st, we were told we’d have to come back on the morning of the 27^th as they can only book as far as five days in advance. Given the already fragile mental state we’d put ourselves in as a result of this first set of queuing, we decided to purchase tickets for an 11pm train on Friday 28^th – on a 6-hour train journey with no seats. I’m suddenly very glad I bought three fat books “just in case”.

Another day, another wander through Silk Street Market. This time I had a list of items to purchase – adapter plug, watch, shoes, gloves. Sorted all out for less than £20! It quickly became apparent in our 4-hour wait yesterday that my boots are just not thick enough for this shattering cold. (It also became apparent that next time Keer says somewhere is not colder than London, I should probably still double-check with the world’s met office.)

Here’s some maths for you - a single journey on the Beijing subway costs 2RMB – the equivalent of 20p. For the cost of a 1-day Travelcard (for zones 1-6) on the London Underground you could make 75 journeys here! Mental! But not as mental as the motorised rickshaw Keer and I got in today – the driver was a proper loon, going against the traffic, in between the lanes, on and off the pavement – and then hurriedly ushering us off so the police wouldn’t see! Well, if nothing else, the rickshaw certainly pumps up the adrenaline.

We got some Chinese medicine yesterday to sort me out – the pharmacists said I was stressed and his remedy would get rid of the “too much fire in my head”, apparently.

I had my first experience of potential scamming today – we took a trip to Tianenman Square and were strolling along, as you do, taking photos and the like, whilst random people were coming over and saying “Hello! Where are you from?” and, of course, me being completely naive and unsuspecting, I struck up a conversation with two girls who were keen to “practice English” with us, were going for some “coffee and fun drinks”, and wondered if we “want to enjoy together?” I was all up for it – whilst in China, why not make friends with Chinese people? Anyway, in the end we didn’t go because Keer was convinced there was more to the scene than met the eye. Quite a few other “Westeners” were also being accosted by pairs of girls. It was all very odd once Keer put the shadow of doubt in my mind – and then my mind went running wild – “Well, they can’t have been trying to offer us sex because we’re not men...OH-MY-GOD they were trying to capture us and lure us into the sex trade!” But on a serious note, Keer said one of the latest scams has been the setting up of fake bus stops to sell advertising space. And later we found out that, yes, the two Buddhist girls (who refused to be in a picture with us for religious reasons [or because they didn’t want to be recognised in a line-up]) were indeed wanting to take us to some bar and get us to pay for overcharged drinks. And all this under the watchful eye of Chairman Mao’s portrait – tut tut!

Sunday 23rd January, 9:30pm, Beijing

It’s Sunday night in Beijing. I’m sat with Keer’s mum watching the Chinese equivalent of “Take Me Out”. (...“watching” is a strong word in this case...) The Party have obviously decided to opt for a host far less irritating than Paddy McGuiness – but perhaps I only think that because I can’t understand him. First impression of Beijing – rather impersonal. Crossing the roads is absolute madness. Being well-versed in the London approach of stepping in front of cars regardless of the traffic lights is definitely an advantage, but it only gets you so far – motorists do not seem to share my view of “if they run me down, it’s them who’ll face the manslaughter charge”...perhaps it’s more the case of “if I run her down, it’s her own stupid fault.”

Wandered round Silk Street Market today with Keer while she tried to locate a nail parlour – when we finally stumbled upon it, it was closed for (Chinese) New Year (3^rd Feb). Eventually we found an alternative, and indulged in one of the more pointless leisure activities in life – manicures. Keer also got a full set of acrylic nails moulded on. I, on the other hand, have enough trouble with my chopsticks as it is, and opted out of the fake claws. The market vendors were quite literally yelling at and following me – “Hey girl, want to buy some jeans/bags/Louis Vutton/shoes for you/your boyfriend/your husband?” At first I tried politely declining, but then quickly realised it was best to catch no one’s eye and play deaf/dumb/mute, because the list of potential items and relatives could go on indefinitely.

The food so far has been AMAZING - nothing like Chinese take-away in England, which I am really not a fan of. We’ve had lamb kebabs (not quite the Turkish Wood Green way), liver kebabs, some sort of bean curd soup with fried dough for breakfast (weird texture!), and various dishes at the Peking Duck restaurant – apparently the best duck place in town – the duck pancakes were indeed incredible. Keer’s mum cooked dinner tonight and made us eat all the green vegetables otherwise they’d have been thrown away. There was a dish of what I thought were fine beans – apparently not, it was the green stalk bits on a clove of garlic! Garlic is good for the heart – it can “heal” a broken one, apparently. (Broken in the very literal sense of a “hole in the middle”.) I wish it could heal my sickness, my eyes/nose have been oozing since before we even got here. I think I drugged myself up on about twice the recommended dose of ibuprofen/paracetamol on Friday. A lot of people wear face masks while walking around; perhaps they can hear me sneezing my way over.

Keer’s little sisters are absolutely adorable. They’ve been picking up our (post-ironic) use of the word “blud” – it’s hilarious to hear a 7-year-old Chinese girl saying “Come on blud, let’s play hide and seek!” in a semi-Mancunian accent.

Tomorrow we are going to go and queue for train tickets and hunt down an open mic night for later on in the week. I’ve also been contemplating buying an acoustic guitar over here, if they’re considerably cheaper...