vickygoestravelling

my journey to health and well being via exotic destinations


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in which I rub shoulders with Prince Charles and go back to school in Mumbai’s red light district

The birthday boy at Mumbai Gateway

The birthday boy at Mumbai Gateway

Arriving back in Mumbai this time feels like the welcome embrace of a dear friend. To start with, there’s Mehtab to meet us at the airport, despite the late hour, and we’re staying with Cindy and Guy, whose flat in Bandra is now more like a museum filled with objets from the Chor Bazaar.

Diwali flowers at Cindy and Guy's flat

Diwali flowers at Cindy and Guy’s flat

First things first, though: its Ross’s birthday on Saturday, so we take him on a whirlwind tour of Mumbai. First stop the Gateway to India, where we are mobbed by kids all dying to be photographed. We take Guy and Cindy’s Christmas card shot for them (here’s a sneak preview).

Christmas card for Mr and Mrs THomas

Christmas card for Mr and Mrs Thomas

Posing rather against her will...

Posing rather against her will…

While brandishing my iPhone, an annoying German man quips, ‘Ach, I see you don’t like your phone’. Seeing me looking very puzzled, he continues, ‘It will be stolen if you don’t put it away’.  Stunned by Mr Busybody all I can muster is Smartass, as loudly as I can. For the record, I have had absolutely no trouble on the streets of Mumbai, despite wandering around the Chor (Thieves) Bazaar with £250 of Rupees in my handbag!

Fresh fruit stall at the Bombay Gateway

Fresh fruit stall at the Bombay Gateway

Bustling crowds at the Gateway

Bustling crowds at the Gateway

It’s a holiday atmosphere, the weekend sandwiched between Diwali and Muhurram (Hindu and Muslim New Year respectively). The crowds are vibrant and surging, massive balloons pepper the maidan, all manner of children’s toys and trinkets are laid out on the ground, and food stalls are doing a roaring trade. Overcome with all this busy-ness, we repair to the cool bar of the Taj, showing Ross the memorial to the terrorist attack on the way.

Cindy with her British High Commission deep throat in the Taj foyer

Cindy with her British High Commission deep throat in the Taj foyer

But what is this? Big excitement, Prince Charles is also in town and staying right here! Cindy bumps into a mate who’s on the consular staff and he tips us off to a photo opportunity in 20 minutes when HRH leaves the hotel…we are the only people here apart from security, but my photos unfortunately are not that good (the downside of only using an iPhone for this blog!).

Aha - here is HRH at last

Aha – here is HRH at last

This is as close as we get - but its pretty close although he dashes past us on the wrong side of the flower arrangement!

This is as close as we get – but its pretty close although he dashes past us on the wrong side of the flower arrangement!

No visit is complete without scouring the Chor Bazaar. Our haul includes two heads: a 3-headed Vishnu from Karnataka, ‘600 years old’ – yeah right, Ifram; a serene Buddha from Uttar Pradesh and a lovely bronze bull, cast using the lost-wax technique.

Our new three-headed Vishnu

Our new three-headed Vishnu

Cindy and her new billy goat freind

Cindy and her new billy goat friend

Stripping a car down to its component parts in Chor Bazaar

Stripping a car down to its component parts in Chor Bazaar

Sunday we become wannabee watchers at the Four Seasons brunch – the Veuve flows freely and we certainly get our money’s worth. Delicious assorted Asian cuisine too.

Cindy before we had several bottles of Veuve Cliquot...

Cindy before we had several bottles of Veuve Cliquot…

The highlight of the trip is, undoubtedly, becoming Cindy’s teaching assistant for her weekly session at a charity in the red light district, providing a safe haven and educational stimulus to the daughters of prostitutes. We spend all morning preparing our two sets of activities, one for little ones 6-12; and the other, the over 13s. Cindy has come up with a basic mobile for the younger group, so we cut, colour, stick and decorate our prototypes; and a much more elaborate photo frame, made out of ice lolly sticks, for the older girls.

Doing our prep...

Doing our prep…

We arrive in the heart of the brothel area, passing several ladies getting ready for their evening. A woman will be kidnapped or trafficked, held in a half-way house,  gang-raped and taught in her job until subservient, and then sold to a brothel in Mumbai, owned by a man but run by a former prostitute. For two years she will not be allowed out, but kept in a cage; later she gets some freedom, by which time she has nowhere to go.

Cindy getting down to work, kids looking on with rapt attention

Cindy getting down to work, kids looking on with rapt attention

The average age of a working girl in Mumbai is 14; she earns R20 (20p) per John and probably sees 20 a day. She has to pay for everything – bed, food, laundry, water, using the loo…not to mention her purchase fee, so she can never repay and be free. HIV is rife, as is glue sniffing and drug taking. Many have children: birth control would seem an obvious ‘investment’ for the owners of the girls, but it seems that unprotected sex, despite the unwanted results, adds a premium…Interesting that Ifram, the Chor Bazaar shop owner said, ‘You should tell those girls to have safe sex…all this disease is no good’. To which we replied: ‘But it’s the guys who want the unsafe sex….’. He just waggled his head in that very Indian way.

Concentration....

Concentration….

The charity is a tiny two-story room, filled with the sound of piping voices and girlish laughter. Namaste Teeecher! greets us as we arrive. Upstairs we squat on the floor in a room where you can’t even stand up, and the girls crowd around, eagerly grabbing the ‘ones we made earlier,’ while we try and explain what to do. English is rudimentary, but the gist is communicated through other helpers.

I never knew I could still cut and colour...

I never knew I could still cut and colour…

Cindy has warned me that all the glitter and sparkles will be in hot demand, and indeed it’s fascinating to see little strips of diamanté bobbles being secreted under toes! Nothing has prepared me for these delightful girls, all clean and brightly dressed, polite until their enthusiasm erupts into avaricious hoarding of crayons and sparkles – a little fight breaks out in one corner, scissors are banned so we have a lot of work to do!

Photo frames made by the older girls

Photo frames made by the older girls

But the overriding take-away is of enthusiasm and attention to detail: the concentration of the colouring in, the precision of choosing the sticker that’s just right, applying the flowers and glitter to the frames, all punctuated by the high-pitched screeching of Teeecher! Teeecher! to get our attention. Every finished item has to be admired and photographed, until honour and pride are satisfied.

Very proud little girl

Very proud little girl

As we leave we are accosted by a Nepalese prostitute, with a small Buddha-like baby, shaven-head with a big red bhindi. The Nepalese are at the bottom of the pecking order, and she is off her head: staggering about, exhorting us to take her baby, while smiling beatifically. It’s a sad reminder of the reality of the streets.

The red light area as we leave our teaching session

The red light area as we leave our teaching session

Taking photos is frowned on and mine are checked…this is in case the girls can be identified in the schools they attend. The stigma of their origins would put an end to any hopes of betterment. So the majority of the shots make it impossible to identify individual girls and I have kept the charity’s name secret. If anyone wants to donate or volunteer, contact me privately and I will put you in touch.

Chorty Billie almost too grown up to play with mice..

Chorty Billie almost too grown up to play with mice..

 

Master Dizzy Rascal Thomas, check those eyes....

Master Dizzy Rascal Thomas, check those eyes….

So the four days pass quickly; Cindy’s street cat – you might remember her from the last blog – Chorty Billie (meaning little cat) has now become a sleek madam; she has been joined by another little chap, Dizzy ‘Rascal’ Thomas, who is equally naughty and has one blue and one green eye!

Mumbai remains an enigma of a city: so much poverty, but so much energy, activity and striving for betterment, even if only to survive the life on the streets. And humour. Where else can you drive past a street vendor twice in 15 minutes and have a conversation in sign language, explaining why you’re going round in circles? It’s a complete juxtaposition to Singapore and a reminder, as we watch the devastation of the Philippines (the island we dived on in August, Malapasqua has been devastated), that SE Asia is a continent of many cultures, faces and diversity.tempmumbai43

Off to the mosque in Chor Bazaar

Off to the mosque in Chor Bazaar


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in which I morph from domestic goddess into hostess with the mostest

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Delicious cake – fir for a goddess

In this post we welcome old friends to stay in our new apartment and celebrate my birthday…

TempJBCLARE10After almost 9 months here on and off, we feel we can show people round, and at least know where to go to eat! Ross was away in Basel for the first few days, so we enjoyed the vibrancy of the Naitonal Orchid Garden in sunshine; followed by a delicious lunch in the nearby restaurant, only to be interrupted by massive thunderstorm. Poor old Mr and Mrs B had forgotten their umbrellas so got very wet indeed!

Mr and Mrs B enjoying the Orchid Garden

Mr and Mrs B enjoying the Orchid Garden

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Mrs B and Mrs C trying to merge with the flora…

 TempJBCLARE07 TempJBCLARE05 TempJBCLARE04 Dodging showers and trying to find taxis seemed to be the biggest challenges of this visit; nevertheless we areyet again stunned by the Gardens on the Bay; lunch in one of the Supertrees affords a sumptuous view. Not as good as the viewing platform at Marina Bay Sands which had to be done despite black clouds all around.

on the walkway between the Supertrees

on the walkway between the Supertrees

Economics grads posing for a team photo

Economics grads posing for a team photo

Chinatown is also a must-see in SIngapore, poking round the tat stalls nevertheless affords good bargains while, at the higher end, the intricacies of a specialist tea shop delight.  Here Clare bought a dead ringer for the Hare with the Amber Eyes teapot…My more prosaic larger elephant teapot is perfect for more than two people! Thanks Clare!

These are Chinese zodiac teapots

These are Chinese zodiac teapots

My birthday teapot!

My birthday teapot!

It has to be done, that famous Singapore Sling. So off to Raffles with some of Mr B’s visiting friends – far too sweet for me and, I gather, all pre-made so a bit of a production line. But the Long Bar is a fun place, even if rather full or tourists, like us! Afterwards to a real find, specialist Peranakan/Straits Malay restaurant, Blue Ginger, where we let the waiter do the ordering and we eat greedily and with gusto.

The girls enjoying the Slings

The girls enjoying the Slings

Clare and me in the ancient hallway of Raffles

Clare and me in the ancient hallway of Raffles

Yummy crab

Yummy crab

Mr and Mrs B tucking in...

Mr and Mrs B tucking in…

And so the the birthday: preceding night dinner we feast on chilli crab at Jumbo Seafoods in Boat Quay;  then Sunday lunch at one of our favourites, Din Tai Fung, the Taiwanese dumpling house (not as good as the original one in Taipei, but still yummy); and then 20 or so new-found friends, plus one or two older ones from university days, for drinks. As it was Diwali, I ordered samosas, bhajis and pakoras, promptly delivered by Omar Shariff (I wish it was really he, that would have been the best birthday present ever!), and Mr and Mrs B made a few blinis, while Lucie G brought a delicious cake! (see picture up top)

But not all play, dear readers: Mr B had lots of meetings and went out clad in a suit, much to our amusement; while Mrs B, aka Clare Cooper of Art First, and I had a Board meeting and strategy summit on my sofa while I rested my leg on a hot water bottle.

Mr and MRs B posing in front of the canapes they expertly assembled!

Mr and Mrs B posing in front of the canapes they expertly assembled!

Don’t laugh, you hear me right – I have a large haemotoma on my calf which means I can’t walk or stand for long. A challenge for Monday’s induction meeting at the Tanglin Club which involved a lot of standing about…and even more of a challenge for next weekend’s visit to Mumbai, for our diving in Sulawesi the following week…and the ski season. Painful physio and ultrasound on the menu to try and get my leg back…

I will keep you updated!


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in which I resume my duties as a domestic goddess

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My return to Singapore was somewhat eventful after two months away. First of all my bag got lost, to reappear several hours later, but what a pain! (Now possessor of several thousand airmails to add to my new Malaysian Airlines Enrich loyalty account.)

Secondly, a nagging calf pain over the preceding two weeks had morphed itself in my mind into DVT, and my first day back was spent at the docs and at the hospital having ultrasound scans. Good news: not DVT; bad news: a haemotoma (bleeding clot in muscle) which would require 4-6 weeks rest. Good news: let off gym antics; bad news: swimming not so good either. Oi vey.

So what to do as accompanying spouse than to cook husband delicious meals, especially as he was due to desert me for a couple of weeks?

We started with crispy skin cod with hot, sour and sweet sauce (Thailand), served with stir friend garlic and ginger greens,

Roasted hot, sweet, and sour fish

Roasted hot, sweet, and sour fish

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

then went on to slow cooked pork with ginger, chilli and sweet soy sauce (kecap manis) from Indonesia, again with more yummy greens, this time my favourite kailan, a local kind of broccoli but much sweeter.

slow cooked pork

slow cooked pork

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another night we had spicy grilled chicken with lemon grass, but the finest achievement was my tofu and mushroom miso soup (home-made stock OF COURSE) that I made for myself to keep me company while watching an episode of an Arne Dahl Swedish thriller. Who needs a husband with the complete first season to chomp through?

Mmmm-miso

Mmmm-miso

Before husband left, we headed for a local garden centre, in brilliant sunshine. By the time the bus stopped we were in the midst of a minor tropical storm with no umbrella. Queen Victoria was not amused. Choosing plants in the pouring rain is hard, but we are pleased with the result. The garden centre chaps came yesterday and planted everything up in situ; an hour later our irrigation system arrived, orderd online, cash on delivery. Singapore is wonderful!

Bougainvillea, hibiscus, heliconium, ginger, orchid and lantana - oh and a little chilli plant

Bougainvillea, hibiscus, heliconium, ginger, orchid and lantan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I also managed to persuade him to part with more money – this time for a reclining chair (to rest my leg obvs) and a heavy teak carved pole from Indonesia to drape a luxurious piece of cloth, as a wall hanging for the bedroom. Latter yet to be acquired (more money to be spent!). No pics as they arrive on Thursday!

In between all this joint expenditure I have been a busy little bee on my own, arranging for more fabric to be mounted and framed for the guest room, and testing the efficacy of the Singapore bus system.

Talking of framing, just before we left London, the wife of a dear friend, Clare Morton, presented us with this mind-blowing collage of Louise, which includes ephemera from her life, for instance photos from the funeral sheet, the words to Cabaret, little in-jokes on being a vegetarian, fashion and all her foibles, plus cut-outs from the Marathon Kebab House menu and so on. It is simply stunning (all on the back of an old door) and this photo does not do it justice.

Clare's stunning tribute to Louise

Clare’s stunning tribute to Louise

Where was I? Oh yes: in hot pursuit of an Indian visa – yes again,dear reader, our patience is being sorely tried by bureaucracy – the system has changed since three months ago, necessitating a huge bus trip to Little India, where appropriately enough the recently outsourced visa service resides, but not before I had schlepped down to the High Commission, where apart form anything else, I got chatted up by another despairing Brit!

But the upshot is that I have nailed these buses and am merrily riding round Singapore for $1 or less per trip. Very satisfying as I try to convince husband that I am not a spendthrift. (note to Janet: some hope!)

Now we eagerly await our first visitors: Mr Tubby who comes on Monday and then the Mr & Mrs JBs, who arrive on Wednesday for 6 days. Many culinary and artistic pleasures await…

Mirror image - bougainvillea, lantana, hibiscus, heliconium, ginger, orchid and also a little chilli plant

Mirror image – bougainvillea, lantana, hibiscus, heliconium, ginger, orchid and also a little chilli plant


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in which we go to Lamu and narrowly miss the Wesgate siege

Lamu sea-front - unchanged for centuries

Lamu sea-front – unchanged for centuries

Week 2 of Unwin Tours finds 11 survivors arriving in Nairobi on the second day of the Westgate siege. Nairobi airport, despite great anxieties after the fire that destroyed the arrivals hall, is a doddle and we are soon ensconced in the Country Lodge. Decided to miss out on a planned curry in Westlands, the area of the siege. It seems everyone has the same idea, the hotel restaurant is packed with people not daring to venture out.

Still a fishing port

Still a fishing port

Another day, another small plane. This time we are fleeced for excess baggage but we are so relieved to be out of Nairobi we don’t care and cough up.

I have been going to Lamu since I was eight: my mother had a long love affair with the island and I was dragged off there at every opportunity during my school holidays, kicking and screaming. What eight-year old wants to visit anywhere which has no electricity, no proper loos, no cars and is so backward, not even coke has arrived? It was so hot we used to sleep on mosquito-infested roofs and bring our own food – tea with condensed milk and that old East African picnic favourite, tinned Plumrose liver pate!

Donkeys are the main form of transport still

Donkeys are the main form of transport still

Her interest was archaeology and her boyfriend was excavating the ancient Islamic settlements on the coast, which date back to the 9-10 centuries. They were in fact city states which formed part of the lucrative dhow trade from India and the Gulf, carrying Chinese pottery, copper and other oriental goods, in return for limes, copra and mangrove poles, which were needed for building in the Gulf.

The main square by the old fort/prison

The main square by the old fort/prison; Renoir-esque dont you think?

While Manda Island and Pate have declined, although the ruins can still be visited, Lamu town, and now Shela, have thrived and grown. The dhow trade is long gone since the Gulf discovered oil, and tourism is the mainstay, with Shela being a haven for the jet set: Princess Caroline of Monaco had several houses there, and there are some exclusive beach houses where the likes of Euan Macgregor and other A-listers visit.

A typical back street in the old town

A typical back street in the old town

When I was a teenager, Lamu became much more attractive: bang on the hippy trail around Africa, visiting now became exciting. Mum now had a house in town, and was part of the expatriate community of eccentrics who made Lamu their home. Of these only one or two now remain but Mama Sheila is still remembered by some of Lamu’s older residents who rush up to greet me when I visit, and no one is more delighted to see me than her old housekeeper, Ali Maulidi.

Dear old Ali Maulidi, so happy to see us all

Dear old Ali Maulidi, so happy to see us all

The tree where I buried Mum, on Manda Toto

The tree where I buried Mum, on Manda Toto

So here we are after an absence of about four years: the last visit was to bury Mum’s ashes on Manda Toto, the island where she camped while digging on Manda and was happiest. One of my missions is to reunite my father and Louise with my mother and leave them all together in a peaceful and remote resting place.

Forodhani House

Forodhani House

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have rented a house in Shela on the waterfront so we can be part of everyday life while enjoying the benefits of being out of the hot town and near the beach.

The house comes with four staff, and we are thrilled to discover that Amos used to cook for Princess Caroline. The food is consequently quite delicious – seafood in all guises, a fusion of local with a touch of continental sophistication.

Amos and Festus barbeque soem amberjack

Amos and Festus barbeque some amberjack and a snapper caught by Rick

Mmmm

Mmmm

The only downside is that on arrival we discover the single bedroom is no more than a cupboard: no door, no windows, no fan and no room to swing the cat that has nested on the pillow! After what in Swahili we call a ‘matata’, we find another room in an adjacent house where one couple moves quite happily: after all it has an ensuite infinity pool overlooking the sea! Lamu has come a long way since the long drop ‘choo’ of my youth.

The 'single bedroom'

The ‘single bedroom’

My bedroom!

My bedroom!

the balcony

the balcony

The pool

The pool

Early morning tea, watching the world go by

Early morning tea, watching the world go by

Dawn from my balcony

Dawn from my balcony

Putting the ‘shauri’ behind us quickly – we are here to enjoy ourselves – we soon settle in to island life. The day kicks off at dawn, with the lone fisherman on the pier below the house, who feeds the local cats when he gets lucky; an early morning swim; a breakfast feast of fruit and fresh passion fruit juice; a wander into Lamu town, where little has changed since the 18 century, to the beach, more swimming; delicious lunch – perhaps a little grilled calamari, or white snapper; a siesta; fishing; a little idle shopping in Shela; sundowners – naturally; and dinner – BBQ prawns, a whole fish, or spicy and coconutty Swahili food – fish curry, spinach, lentils, coconut rice, followed by homemade sorbet. What could be better?

Buying the fish in Lamu!

Buying the fish in Lamu! Annie, Christine, Diane and Diego

Diego, Christine and ROss on the machua

Diego, Christine and Ross on the mashua

We set off in two mashuas for our ashes trip: first a stop to snorkel in the Pate channel; some gentle fishing. The crew grill a big tuna-like fish, marinated in garlic, black pepper, chilli and turmeric, knock up a coleslaw and chapattis and – hey presto – a scrummy lunch! We have brought beer and wine. It IS the simple things that give so much pleasure….

Making lunch!

Making lunch!

Voila!

Voila!

The tide is going out so finding the casurina tree that marks the spot is a little testing, but once found, we jump ashore and dig a little hole and pour in the contents of our two tea caddies that I have nursed round Africa. It feels perfect, though immensely sad. But, as a friend said, so right to leave Louise in the tender care of both her grandparents.

A jasmine corsage, bougainvillaea from teh garden and a sprig of oleander

A jasmine corsage, bougainvillaea from the garden and a sprig of oleander

Afterwards on the beach

Afterwards on the beach

Even in paradise, the real world intrudes, and some of our party are anxious about the proximity to Somalia and the El Shabaab terrorists. We are a stone’s throw away from where a French woman and the poor English couple were kidnapped. While I feel at home in Lamu, I realise that others could not feel so secure. So I depute Rick to interrogate the District Commissioner on the status quo. He comes back reassured, though later events in Nairobi of course confirm my sneaking suspicions that the Kenyans are completely out of control. However, I still maintain that Lamu is safe: it is such a small place and the comings and goings are closely monitored, according to the DC.

Mosque door

Mosque door

lovely kids

lovely kids blowing bubbles

Street sign

Street sign

Traffic jam!

Traffic jam!

Main square

Main square

the Old Boys CLub

the Old Boys CLub

Our guide Ali with his family

Our guide Ali with his family

For me, Lamu has maintained its chaotic charm: noisy, shouting people; little donkeys everywhere (shame about the donkey sanctuary); wide-eyed children playing in the street – Jambo, jambo; heavily veiled women are a new phenomenon, though quite often you see the flash of a smile and, as in all cultures, where you greet and talk to people, the rewards are immediate; men sitting round in the main square passing the time of day. And still only three cars, including the dustcart. The water front has barely changed, with one exception: an awning announcing Pizza and Teppenyaki. Oh dear.

the 13 km beach...

the 13 km beach…

The old man feeding the cats outside our house

The old man feeding the cats outside our house

Lamu street cats

Lamu street cats

more cat feeding

more cat feeding

Lunch is served

Lunch is served

And so like all good things, our time draws to a close. Strongly recommend Forodhani house, but for no more than 5 couples. Thanks to Amos, Francis, Festus and Kosmas, and to Babu British, for looking after us so beautifully. Lamu remains my heaven on earth, along with Mana Pools, both places I will keep re-visiting until I, too, can be laid to rest under the casurina tree on Manda Toto.

Sailing into the sunset

Sailing into the sunset


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in which we dive with thresher sharks and sea horses

Thresher shark in the deep blue

Thresher shark in the deep blue

Mabuhay! Welcome to the Philippines…here we are for a five day dive break to see the magnificent thresher sharks on Malapasqua island, which is 4 hours drive and boat away from Cebu City, in turn 3.75 hours from Singapore.

Fishing boats on Malapasqua, storm clouds brewing

Fishing boats on Malapasqua, storm clouds brewing

The hair-raising drive by local cab, dodging jeepneys (local shared taxis), motor rickshaws heaving with schoolkids, lorries and buses bearing down in all directions as we overtake incessantly and whizz down the wrong side of the road, brings back memories of being a teenager in Manila. In those days Manila was the murder capital of the world, and my Dad, being an unconventional sort of fellow, eschewed living in walled and armed complexes known as villages, instead choosing an old Spanish house in the red light district, Ermita. Closer to work, he said!

Cheeky boys crammed onto the back of a rickshaw

Cheeky boys crammed onto the back of a rickshaw

Spoilt 15 year old as I was, bored and neglected by my stepmother, and having no one to hang out with, I had a driver at my disposal to take me to get a tan at the nearby Army and Navy Club – a left-over from the American occupation during the 2nd World War – where I met my first serious boyfriend Alfred (yes, his real name!) Gonzalez. He was a heroic sort of guy, local DJ and man about town, always dressed to kill. I giggled to myself as I remembered the time we went on a family trip to Legaspi to climb the volcano and Alfred arrived in winkle-picker boots. My father was beside himself! My English accent was in much demand and soon I was making voiceovers for Alfred ‘s radio station: ‘DZeeRJ plays the MOHST music’. I bought my first bootleg album in Manila – Weird Scenes Inside the Goldmine and so began my third love affair  – with Jim Morrison. But that’s another story.

Girls enjoying festival in Danao City

Girls enjoying festival in Danao City

The dudes

The dudes

Jolted from my reverie as the car judders to a standstill and we are surrounded by scores of girls in carnival costumes, and big floats with speakers and dudes in leathers looking cool: we have hit the Ati Ati Ham festival in Danao City: Cebu is renowned for its number of religious festivals. The girls wave delightedly, and even the cool men break into a smile.

The countryside when we see it as we cross the spine of the mountainous Cebu island is lush and volcanic; there are paddies and huge industrial sized cane plantations as we drop down the other side. Churches everywhere, with sponsored posters and walls emblazoned with families’ names, denoting that the Philippines the Church is big business as well as religion.

We finally arrive at the boat jetty after our white knuckle ride along roads of strip development: people sitting on chairs outside makeshift shops, dogs everywhere, little markets in small towns heaving with mangoes, pineapples and crisps, fighting cocks for sale on poles lining the road – and pawnbrokers abound. This is a poor country, but every one is spick and span in clean clothes, even if walking through rubbish and mud. And Catholic, so babies and small children everywhere.

OUr beach front deluxe room at the Exotic Island Dive resort

Our beach front deluxe room at the Exotic Island Dive resort, note dive equipment drying

And so to Malapasqua itself, after a bumpy ride in a local fishing boat, narrow-hulled with outriggers on either side. The dive boats share this construction, and prove to be difficult to get in and out of as well as rather unstable in bad weather as we shall discover on our return journey, the morning after the biggest typhoon in the world this year, which devastated parts of main island, Luzon.

View from my room

View from my room

The dive boats - traditional fishing boats with outriggers

The dive boats – traditional fishing boats with outriggers

Ross doing his photos - slow but steady wi fi available

Ross doing his photos – slow but steady wi fi available

The Exotic Island Dive and Beach resort (good dive centre and confortable hotel with OK restaurant, good cocktails and San Mig – all you need really) is set at the end of a strip of white sand, lined with small hotels and restaurants. Seven years ago, there was nothing, and in seven years I reckon the whole place will have been destroyed by dynamiting and over-diving.

ME on the wall at Kalamanggua Islet

Me on the wall at Kalanggaman Islet

The thresher shark diving business is almost industrial in its execution: 4.45 am the first boats leave for the Monad Shoal and you disappear into the plankton-filled gloomy depths where you grab on to a line at 25 meters, like a little row of solders going into battle, and wait for the threshers to come to their cleaning station.

While horrified by the large numbers of people – at least a dozen boats with 20 divers on each – the sharks themselves who had obviously been paid to appear – are breathtakingly beautiful with their long whip like tails which they use to lash their prey into submission. They pass surprisingly close and fix me with a beady eye. I love sharks. Devil rays float by too, also availing themselves of the abluting services.

Pale clown fish with blue-tipped anemones, the prettiest things on the reef

Pale clown fish with blue-tipped anemones, the prettiest things on the reef

Traditional seahorse, the pygmies, size of finger nail, too small for Ross's camera, and that's a first! Failure, I mean!

Traditional seahorse, the pygmies, size of finger nail, too small for Ross’s camera, and that’s a first! Failure, I mean!

As for the rest, apart from some good seahorse and frog fish sightings and some lovely coral gardens, it was perfectly pleasant, but some of the dives were simply rubble and new soft corals and anemones struggled to get a grip. Fishes there were none larger than 10 cms – all blasted into extinction – so we became experts in spotting critters: tiny shrimps, crabs, worms and nudibranchs, some no bigger than half a finger nail. Lucky I had my new lenses put into my mask so I could actually see!  Not forgetting the sea-snakes as Gato Island is a sanctuary (haha, no guards and plenty of people fishing with impunity in the sanctuary boundaries). Check Ross’s website for proper photos of the fishes http://

bit.ly/1a07QAB

Me getting ashore for out picnic and a welcome loo stop!

Me getting ashore for out picnic and a welcome loo stop!

So I surmise all the seafood on the menus is imported and frozen. Stick to chicken and pork. We at least saw those, including a whole pig being feasted on at a family picnic on Kalanggaman Islet, where we stopped for a rather poor BBQ lunch in-between dives.

A swim-through on the otherwise devastated by dynamite Gato island - yes its me again!

A swim-through on the otherwise devastated-by-dynamite Gato island – yes it’s me again!

Our buddies were truly cosmopolitan though biased towards Singapore as it was the Singapore holidays. Lots of jolly, noisy Chinese; more taciturn Koreans and Japanese; Spaniards, French, American, Swedish, Ozzies, Brits, and even a lone Chilean!

Well, you come all this way to chill in a hammock of course!

Well, you come all this way to chill in a hammock of course!

Life on the Ocean Wave!

Life on the Ocean Wave!

 

 

 

 

I thought it a long way to come for many; for us a quick flit from Singapore (is 11 hours quick I ask myself?) makes it a worth-while mini break, but after 4 days’ diving I was ready to come back; and in fact due to the typhoon the dives were cancelled the day we left, so we timed it well!

Oh and Mao’s Revenge morphed into Marcos’s Revenge: if sight-seeing with clenched buttocks is hard, then try diving and all those pressure changes. Wah!

Ross on the last morning - the sun is briefly out after the typhoon of the night before; but the waves were big on the way back

Ross on the last morning – the sun is briefly out after the typhoon of the night before; but the waves were big on the way back

Arriving on day one

Arriving on day one – before Marcos’s Revenge struck!


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in which we eat lots of different food in Shanghai & I get food poisoning!

Jess with Andrea at table no 1 by Jason Atherton

Jess with Andrea at table no 1 by Jason Atherton

Double cooked belly prok (centre), rice balls in date skins (behind), deep fried dick legs (eft); clay pot aubergine (right)

Double cooked belly pork (centre), rice balls in date skins (behind), deep fried duck legs (eft); clay pot aubergine (right)

Crispy friend fish with spring onions, and delicious black mushrooms, withe garlic/rice vinegar cucumber

Crispy friend fish with spring onions, and delicious black mushrooms, withe garlic/rice vinegar cucumber

We came, we saw, we ate! Thanks to  our gourmet guide Jess we managed ot sample many different cuisines; but strangely enough the first meal we had, which was also the cheapest, was the best. Jian’guo 328 is owned and managed by a Taiwanese lady but serves real Shanghai food. It’s tiny and basic, with Formica tables and closes by 9.30. We had beer but I was surprised to see a couple drinking Chablis on ice!

prawns and mixed veg

prawns and mixed veg

lotus root and cucumber

lotus root and cucumber

The following night, we decided to try Sichuan, so off to the Sichuan Citizen in the French concession, a rustic bistro, quite trendy serving cocktails and wine  – we had a bottle of decent Santa Rita sauvignon for the record. As Jess is allergic to meat we stayed fishy – sampling red hot chilli prawns (in their shells so a bit crunchy), a whole tilapia in Sichuan sauce (a bit gloopy sadly); ma po bean curd in Sichuan peppercorns – to die for, mouth numbing hot as it’s meant to be; and some vegetables – plus soused cucumber with garlic & chilli (again – a great favourite this), pickled lotus roots and more greens.

stuffed lotus roots (left); pomegranate flowers (right) galette (top)

stuffed lotus roots (left); pomegranate flowers (right) galette (top)

grilled goats cheese; mint salad

grilled goats cheese; mint salad

The next night Ross was working late so Jess and I had a girls night – braving the dangerous-sounding Southern Barbarian, famed for its Yunnanese delicacies and wide varietes of Czech and Belgian beers! We stuck to Tsing Tao. Here we feasted on more lotus roots, this time stuffed with a little Chinese bacon as it turned out (sorry Jess!);  stir-fried pomegranate flowers in a sour/sweet sauce, with spring onions, totally scrumptious; grandma’s potato galette – quite ordinary, just crispy potatoes; and the house speciality, grilled goats cheese, with a delicate little mint salad in rice wine vinegar, sugar and garlic. One to make at home….

seared tuna

seared tuna

succulent scallops - but was it one of these that poisoned me?

succulent scallops – but was it one of these that poisoned me?

Then we gave Jess a night off and went to drink cocktails on the Bund with Ross’s colleagues, at the Glamour Bar, followed by El Willy’s, a taps bar (their choice). The air con wasn’t working properly so it was hard to enjoy the food with sweat trickling down one’s neck. Some was good – the seared tuna and scallops, plus the marinated fish, but there were a couple of horrors including glutinous patatas bravas and calamari coated in a greasy, thick batter. And to crown it all, it was after this meal that I fell very sick indeed…I will say no more other than sight-seeing with clenched buttocks is no joke! But – and I cant resist saying this – Chinese loos are very clean…

roast turbot at Table no !

roast turbot at Table no 1

The big night out was to be at Jason Atherton’s (Maze fame)Table number 1, set in a renovated factory in the up-and-coming area by the  Cool Docks. People who live in the east always need a change of palate, so we were delighted to go West for this treat. I was, however, put off by having to share a refectory type table with other diners (a very ugly couple who ate noisily and were on their mains before we even got our starters); and disappointed that the waiters had no ideas on provenance of the food I was interested in ordering (was still feeling distinctly queasy at this stage so purity of ingredients rather critical!). Answer came there none, which is always a bad sign. Thankfully, Jess and Andrea loved their main courses, roasted turbot, while Ross and I were slightly disappointed – he with his rack of lamb and me with my sole (still don’t know where it hailed from, but it was on the dry side and possibly FROZEN!). The starters were delicious – tuna carpaccio and scallop ceviche, and the deserts unctuous, with accompanying sauces in little teapots. But if you read this Mr Atherton, I do strongly advise you to pay attention to your brand if you intend to franchise it out. Reputation management and all that…

Smiling lady getting ready to serve food at lunch time (didn't look too appetising!)

Smiling lady getting ready to serve food at lunch time (didn’t look too appetising!)

THis is the lunch she was about to serve

This is the lunch she was about to serve

No trip to China is complete without meandering round looking at street food. On my various wanders round the Old Town back streets, I came across some wonderful looking food, and some great characters….

ready meals waiting for buyers....

ready meals waiting for buyers….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I also discovered that there is a market for ‘ready meals’ – better than Sainsbury’s any day. Eat your heart out M&S!

delicious -looking dumplings in the back streets...

delicious -looking dumplings in the back streets…

 

 

 

 

Dumplings are all steaming away, ready for buyers…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or you can buy a yummy stir fry…stock up on some dried fish, or go shopping in a smart store and get sea slugs, hundreds of varieties of mushrooms and all sorts of sickly-looking sweets (the Chinese have a very sweet tooth). And you can round it all off with a slice of cake! Not for me…

Stir fry anyone?

Stir fry anyone?

sea slugs anyone? hideously expensive, must be a great delicacy

sea slugs anyone? hideously expensive, must be a great delicacy

mushrooms galore

mushrooms galore

Sickly-looking cake

Sickly-looking cake

Bon appétit!


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in which we cool off in Tongli

Tongli- the Vence of the East

Tongli- the Venice of the East

A Water Town! Sounds like a way to cool off in 40C..so we thought!

Still suffering from the Shanghai tummy trouble, we wisely opted not to take the train and then a bus to Tongli, chosen for it being more inaccessible and hopefully less full of tourists. Ross’s ingenuity secured us a local taxi for one quarter of the cost of taking a tour, so we set off with Jess at a civilized 9.30 am.

It's too damn hot - 40C, but we pose like Chinese for our photo with the ubiquitous peace sign

It’s too damn hot – 40C, but we pose like Chinese for our photo with the ubiquitous peace sign

Like us, she had never been outside Shanghai, and we were pleased to see open countryside, with paddy fields and fish farms lining the roads, interspersed with high-rise apartment blocks and luxury developments. Not surprising really as the Water Town area was where ‘due to charming environment and abundance, in ancient times, many noblemen and distinguished families built their private gardens…low bridges, running water and small villages has won its fame as Venice of the east. All these make your trip full of poetic and artistic imagination from the moment you arrive here.’

Jess and Ross in the Tusi Gardens

Jess and Ross in the Tusi Gardens

So said the local guide. And it was true. After queuing for a little shuttle, ‘driver having lunch, she come when finish’, we arrived in the walled town, which at first glance looked rather tourist tacky, lots of shops selling tat and rickshaw wallahs touting for business. But once you left the main streets and wound round the back, life here is probably much as it was a century or two ago – small little one/two storied stone houses with little courtyards, or small gardens. People lolling around inside in the heat, cooking smells lingering in the fetid air. A small breeze just about ruffles your hair on the numerous bridges that cross the canals.

Tusi Gardens

Tusi Gardens

We enjoyed the formal coolness of the Tusi gardens, and made our first tourist purchase, an exquisite and intricate paper cutting of a pair of carp, in blue – bought from the artist.

Peek-a-boo

Peek-a-boo

Whoa - thats some phallus!

Whoa – thats some phallus!

A visit to the Chinese Sex Culture Museum is a must, especially as Jess’s friend Andrea had interviewed the owner for a news piece…in fact it is more culture than sex, although there are some magnificent phalluses on display. A Chinese boy sidled up to me as I was

And another....

And another….

admiring one. ‘You like?’ he whispered in my ear.

Another fine old mansion was host to a museum of Qing dynasty beds – all exotically carved teak, the Moon bed especially designed for ‘conjugal bliss’. Hmm, I’ll have one of those, says Ross.

Ross is hot!

Ross is hot!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We made a bad error over lunch spot, but we were so hot. Literally drenched through from top to toe (yuk!) that, instead of continuing along the canal, where we later saw some waterside cafes complete with electric fans, we made our way to the main square where we found air con, a beer, and the most repellent greasy rancid dumplings I’ve ever seen, plus some lurid pumpkin buns…Jess stuck to the cucumber, Ross ate the dumplings, I drank the beer, no one ate the pumpkin!

East meets west - or Disney!

East meets West – or Disney!

This girl had never met a foreigner before...

This girl had never met a foreigner before…

After lunch we met some gorgeous girls all dressed up in local Disney Princess outfits aka local traditional dress – hot synthetic gowns with long sleeves and frills, in garish colours, all having their photos taken. More than happy to be photographed by and with us – one girl told us she had never met any foreigners before; her friend spoke impressive English for a girl from the provinces. None of the pretty girls, posing for their friends, minded being photographed either. Ross is now building up quite a collection of Chinese beauties. I’ll have to watch him.

Jess and her new friend, who spoke passable English

Jess and her new friend, who spoke passable English

This couple were enjoying all sorts of strange poses

This couple were enjoying all sorts of strange poses

Cool it was not, but a fascinating day out. We saw only one other group of laowai (foreigners) the whole day; and it really wasn’t that crowded so our planning paid off. I rather like that the Chinese (and the Malaysians and the Singaporeans and the Indians) are all such inveterate tourists in their own countries. I suppose their lands are so vast and varied that it makes sense. Why go abroad if it’s all on your doorstep?

A Selfie of us all, true Chinese style! Love you jess!

A Selfie of us all, true Chinese style! Love you jess!


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in which I go it alone in Shanghai – well, almost!

Shanghai36

view from our hotel towards the Bund

Who would turn down a week in Shanghai, staying in a suite in Le Meridien in the centre of town, with free cocktails in the Club Lounge every night? And almost all paid for by the company…the only snag, as accompanying spouse, is that you have to fend for yourself during the working day. And in Shanghai’s heatwave – each day registering between 38-40 C – that’s quite daunting. Especially when half way through you get food poisoning, rendering each expedition a major feat of planning.

A Selfie of us all, true Chinese style! Love you jess!

A Selfie of us all, true Chinese style! Love you Jess!

Following my own guideline number one for a successful ownsome trip – go somewhere where you have a chum – here we were lucky to have Louise’s dear friend and neighbour from Clapton, Jess Lehmann, in Shanghai on a WPP scholarship and working for Ogilvy. Firmly ensconced in the French Concession, Jess has become an expert on Shanghai eateries and tips on how to make the most of it. Like having

Amazing grace and agility on display

Amazing grace and agility on display

an after-work foot, neck and shoulder massage, which is de rigeur in Shanghai I learn. Or knowing which of the Acrobat shows we should go to; we went to Circusworld, (no animals, honest). It was truly spectacular but its staging clunky and low budget. And pretty unsafe, not many safety nets or wires in evidence, and seven motorbikes in a wall of death is pushing it! But the spontaneous joy of all the children was uplifting just as the noise in the theatre was unceasing.

The extraordinary skyline on the BUnd

The extraordinary skyline on the Bund

Having had a grand reunion on the first night and a delicious meal (probably the best of the trip – but there will be a separate food blog so no more on food here), suitably primed and raring to go, on the first morning I foolishly set out to walk to the Bund, the famous promenade where all the finest merchant buildings of the early 1900s are found. Shanghai was a freeport and it attracted traders from all over Europe,

Chinese tourists taking the air...note umbrellas

Chinese tourists taking the air…note umbrellas

and after the Russian Revolution there was an influx of rich Franco-Russian aristocrats and Jews; and again during the Second World War. Sadly all my efforts to see the synagogues and the Jewish museum were thwarted by lack of time, high walls and heat.

Victor's art noveau cafe in the Peace Hotel

Victor’s art noveau cafe in the Peace Hotel

Sticking to guideline number two, have a clear plan, I had my Lonely Planet neighbourhood walks guide, so resolutely set out to follow the North Bund route, melting all the way despite the breeze, which turned my brolly inside-out (Chinese always shield themselves form the sun with a brolly, as I did, until I found a stall which sold straw hats and a fan!). A fine iced coffee in Victors, the art nouveau bar at the Peace Hotel set me to rights.

The mobile hat lady who saved my life

The mobile hat lady who saved my life

Rather deterred by this experience, I thought, aha, guideline number three now – take a tour! The afternoon therefore found me on a bus tour, with only me, the guide and a driver in a posh car. Despite some good ‘sights’, I soon discovered that in Shanghai the sole

Reclining Jade Buddha in Jade Buddha temple

Reclining Jade Buddha in Jade Buddha temple

purpose of a tour is to take you to places where you will be parted from your cash…so the Jade Buddha Temple (jade effigies); Confucian temple (tea, although the tea ceremony thrown in was delightful and I wavered and bought some fine ginseng oolong, chrysanthemum and jasmine teas,

Confucius Temple a haven of tranquillity amidst the skyscrapers

Confucius Temple, a haven of tranquillity amidst the skyscrapers

where the flowers unfold – interestingly all teas can be topped up at least 7 times so they are good value!); silk factory (silk quilts and clothes); pearl factory (pearls) and so on!

The tea-lady - well it was a ceremony in fact, note unfolding jasmine blossom in foreground

The tea-lady – well it was a ceremony in fact, note unfolding jasmine blossom in foreground

In between all this hard-sell, we managed to take in various points of interest; the French concession, the house where the first Communist Party Congress took place in 1921, and some streets in the old town, where the little stalls were preparing their snakes, bull frogs and all sorts of other indescribables for their fate. Most of these houses still have no running water or lavatories, and you can see slop buckets being carried to and fro or left out to dry, as I saw the following day on another old town wander. There are in fact very few old alleys left intact, but on our superb sidecar tour (a joint activity, and highly recommended!) Sammy from San Diego took us inside some of the shared tenements, where the tiling is pure early 20 century, there are communal washing and cooking facilities, and intricate

Preparing for the onslaught - or slaughter should I say

Preparing for the onslaught – or slaughter should I say

Snakes and bullfrogs at the ready....

Snakes and bullfrogs at the ready….

Old house with shared washing facilities

Old house with shared washing facilities

and shared cooking facilities, note old furniture ad floor tiles

and shared cooking facilities, note old furniture ad floor tiles

carving and old furniture is gathering dust and decaying quietly. Soon all these will go the way of the rest – knocked down for mega apartment blocks.

Rather jaded (haha) by this commercialism, I decided to spend the next couple of mornings wandering about by myself. Due to the heat, almost all of the normally crowded places like the YuYuan Gardens were practically deserted,

YuYuan Gardens

YuYuan Gardens

so I enjoyed ambling around, taking in the serene Chenxiangge nunnery; winding streets; food markets; the Bubbling Lanes; the house where Mao stayed when he first came to Shanghai in 1924 (fascinating photos); the Flower, Bird, Fish and Insect Market

The Chianxx

The Chenxiangge Nunnery

(not for the faint-hearted, although these are all destined for pets, including cicadas,

Cicadas pre-packed to be played with by children - a sort of rattle, I suppose. What a racket

Cicadas pre-packed to be played with by children – a sort of rattle, I suppose.

they are kept in very confined spaces; one hesitates to wonder what happens when they get past their sell-by date).

should you want to choose your cricket...these are alive!

should you want to choose your cricket…these are alive!

Gorgeous kitties in the market

Gorgeous kitties in the market

Talking of pets, dogs really are a fashion accessory here – not uncommon to see dogs with little shoes on, and men in particular mince around with tiny lap dogs on long leads – Chihuahuas, schnauzers, all shorn of body hair. Nothing can beat the pink-eared poodle that whizzed by me in her mistress’s motorcycle basket though.

Gambling in the park...

Gambling in the park…

In the afternoons, more gentle local walks down the E Nanjing Rd, round the People’s Square, past the Park Hotel, watching young and old playing cards and Go, gambling furiously (illegal in China), taking in a strange exhibition celebrating 10 years of the Museum of Contemporary Art.

Typical street in Old Town

Typical street in Old Town

A vertical garden, very popular, in the Peolpe's Square

A vertical garden, very popular, in the Peolpe’s Square

Talking of Art, also visited the area known as M50, a hub of Shanghai art galleries. Apart from it being broiling and impossible to get a taxi back, it was a disappointing expedition. I know Chinese art is big ticket these days but, with one exception, Yang Xiaojian, I found it tacky in the extreme.

The Bubbling Well Lane, 1930s and very picturesque

The Bubbling Well Lane, 1930s and very picturesque

So how easy is this to do by yourself? Well, it’s fine if you have a concierge or friend who can write down all your destinations on various pieces of paper (don’t muddle them up though, as I did at one point!); then the taxi driver takes you to where you think you are going. Often it bears no resemblance to where you believe you are headed, so quite a lot of ingenuity is involved to locate yourself as you are unceremoniously dumped on a busy pavement, somewhere…

This was the start of my off-piste excursions....through an old archway, so enticing!

This was the start of my off-piste excursions….through an old archway, so enticing!

Can't resist showing you a Tang horse

Can’t resist showing you a Tang horse

Then there’s the safety issue: having been told Bali was perfectly safe and was then promptly victim to an attempted mugging, I was slightly wary. But here there are so many people, it’s a safety in numbers feeling. The only time I felt slightly on guard was when I went off piste in the old town, pursuing exciting food stalls, and found myself in a down-at-heel area, surrounded by labourers and unsmiling bare-chested men, no women in sight. So I upped the pace and headed off in what I hoped was the right direction (it was!).

Bet you never knew about Tang camels?

Bet you never knew about Tang camels?

At the weekend, Ross became free, so as well as our side-car tour, we visited the Shanghai Museum, tastefully arranged with riches galore – bronzes, porcelain and intricately carved jade. Not as much as in Taiwan – but then, as the Chinese will tell you, Chiang Kai-Shek stole the best

pieces! We also enjoyed an early morning trip to Zongshan Park to see the elderlies doing Tai Chi, despite the fact the place was a building site, so we decamped to the much more tranquil Jing’an Sculpture Park.

Jing'an Sculpture Park

Jing’an Sculpture Park

It made me think about modern China, seeing so many old people enjoying Tai Chi, in contrast to the large numbers of mainly young people at the completely renovated Jing’an Temple – it was only rebuilt in the past 10 years, and in the Cultural Revolution was converted into a plastic factory before being burned down in 1972 –  who were enjoying throwing coins into the vast cauldron, rather as you would at a slot machine.

The elderlies doing Tai CHi in Jongshan PArk on a Saturday morning

The elderlies doing Tai Chi in Zongshan Park on a Saturday morning

Consider that in 2007 40% of Chinese people were under 40 years old; and 20% under 15 years of age; therefore half the country has grown up NOT KNOWING Mao (and the percentages will be higher now). Then remember that most middle-aged parents will not have been in a car or had access to a private phone until well into their 30s. Look around you in the heaving streets (Shanghai has 24 million inhabitants and is the largest city in China) and all you see is people glued to their tablets and androids; every sight you go to, click, clunk, whizz – the sound of camera phones (one woman I saw in the Shanghai museum was taking snaps of every single porcelain exhibit!) taking photos and selfies, fingers posed in the ubiquitous V sign. Jess tells me that digital companies are having to re-strategise how to make money from mobile technology as no one phones or sends texts anymore. Fascinating stuff.

on the side-car in the French Concession

on the side-car in the French Concession

And now suddenly Buddhism and Confucius are back in fashion, having ‘disappeared’ during the height of the Revolution. It must be very confusing. Cynics say that adherence to these old customs can be expedient for business – certainly the monks were pocketing their red envelopes with alacrity at the cleansing ceremony we witnessed in the temple. I don’t think that’s what is meant however!

The Nine Nos, just to remind you this is an authoritarian state! (Don't do this, Dont do that!)

The Nine Nos, just to remind you this is an authoritarian state! (Don’t do this, Dont do that!)

The cleansing ceremony at the Jing'an Temple

The cleansing ceremony at the Jing’an Temple

Take the one-child policy, largely misconceived in the West (it appears more damage was done at a local level by over-zealous implementers than the policy actually set out) as there were always exceptions – for instance for the 54 minorities; now if two single children marry they are allowed to have more than one child.

There is, no doubt, a major concern about the aging population and the in-balance of men and women.

A slop bucket drying in the sun, a reminder of how everyone lived and some still do...but not for long I guess

A slop bucket drying in the sun, a reminder of how everyone lived and some still do…but not for long I guess

Add to this the modern Chinese phenomenon of the Superwoman – she does not want to marry and have children, but wants to have a mega career and be super-rich and successful. It’s a big problem for the government, along with the Four Es, as Jeffrey Wasserstrom puts it: China has four main challenges – economy, environment, energy and endemic corruption and, in many ways, they are linked.

There is little doubt that on the surface China is booming, consumer goods are everywhere – no self-respecting Chinese middle class girl would buy a fake Louis Vuitton – and surfing the net is an addiction. However, there are restrictions on what you can access as I found when trying to write this blog – even with the hotel VPN which allowed us access to google and twitter,

Wells are still in use for washing water in some areas of the French Concession

Wells are still in use for washing water in some areas of the French Concessionwordpress crashed every single time.

wordpress crashed every single time. Yet there is a concern over the level of creativity compared to the other Asian tiger, India. While naturally entrepreneurial, recent history has rendered the Chinese very good at following orders and beavering away, but less so at taking the initiative. So which of these two will win out in the end remains to be seen.

Cant have a blog about China without Mao making an appearance - this is at the house he stayed, in 1924

Can’t have a blog about China without Mao making an appearance – this is at the house he stayed, in 1924

Experts say that China is – successfully it would appear – managing the expectations of the young by carefully balancing their economic aspirations with a modicum of control. For that reason it is unlikely that you will see a Chinese Spring or another Tiananmen Square in the near future.

Exquisite jade funerary rings, between 10-12,000 BCE. Amazing

Exquisite jade funerary disc, between 10-12,000 BCE. Amazing

The next blogs will describe our outing to Tongli Water Town and all the food we ate.


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in which we move into our new apartment

View from our balcony at night, overlooking the pool

View from our balcony at night, overlooking the pool

Hello Singapore, goodbye 34th floor Great World City, and welcome to 11th floor in Holland Hill!

First thing we did after we got off the plane (one night in a hotel before the big move) was to rush off to Jumbo seafoods for some proper Chinese cooking. Calamari, BBQ tilapia and some delicious steamed kai lan (a kind of spring cabbage) with garlic. Too disoriented to take photos I’m afraid!

Next morning, bright and early – 8 am to be precise – found us outside the Ministry of Manpower to register for residency and work permits. We had no appointment, but were through in 15 minutes. Singapore never ceases to surprise at its efficiency, and politeness.

Ross enjoying wi fi on the first night

Ross enjoying wi fi on the first night

Then off to Parivs apartments to meet Glenn our relocation manager and – ta-da – we enter our new abode. Much better than I remembered, marble floors and white walls throughout and devoid of other people’s ghastly furniture.

our Burmese chairs, on the marble floors

our Burmese chairs, on the marble floors

Within minutes the air-freight has arrived (bedding, hoover and iron – domestic goddesses never travel without, don’t you know – and of course desk-top computer, TV, and dvd player). Quickly followed by the cable man who installs wi fi etc in a trice; the IKEA delivery of two beds – but heavens – we have no water, electricity or gas, and the stuff we left in Singapore has not arrived either, plates, kives, forks and glasses…so Ross has to zoom down to nearby store for lunch and cold beers! After lunch the electricity  and water are switched on at precisely 2 pm as requested, and my two lovely Burmese chairs arrive, followed by the balcony furniture. Only the Gas Man cometh not till Friday…so luckily no way I can cook until then!

View from balcony

View from balcony

In fact the gas was the only low point of this care-free move. Man came at appointed hour on Friday, stayed all of 7 minutes, turned everything on, showed me how to switch it off when we go away. Come evening and first gourmet meal ready to go in the wok – Thai red fish curry (paste hand-made of course), with Chinese broccoli – and no gas!

the first meal - Thai red curry - once the gas man had re-installed the meter

the first meal – Thai red curry – once the gas man had re-installed the meter

Several phone calls to afore-mentioned Glenn and two gas men arrive within 15 minutes! Can you believe that in between the man turning us on, another man had come and taken our meter away altogether. Wah!

But all is not lost, these two lovely men have one in their van, it is duly fitted and we are eating by 9.30. It really is efficient here, even when there’s a glitch

Kinara curry - yum!

Kinara curry – yum!

Off to sample the victuals in Holland Village, first night a rather mediocre meal in Crystal Jade (Cantonese, rather than Shanghai, so no noodles or dumplings), but the second night a really delicious curry at Kinara – house special chicken, Kerala fish curry, okra and black dhal.

Please admire the gorgeous Ikat cushions bought in local shop sale, not forgetting the colour coordination

Please admire the gorgeous Ikat cushions bought in local shop sale, not forgetting the colour coordination

Meanwhile Ross has been back at work and I have been exploring the local shops – bought some fine new cushions, some lovely Egyptian cotton sheets (all the ones I bought did not fit as Ross bought beds larger than instructed!).

No move is complete without the mandatory trip to IKEA and we fill the numerous gaps left in my meagre transportation of goods from England – which of course are yet to arrive – guest duvet (bed now too big!), laundry baskets, loo brushes, rubbish bins,  lamps – bedside and living room – etc etc. It was really not too bad; as it’s open till 11pm I think people don’t all come at once.

Obligatory rice cooker!

Obligatory rice cooker!

Our balcony is stinking hot in the middle of the day, so Saturday finds us back in Great World City buying a floor fan (sorry English people, they are abundant here, can I get one for you?); a printer/scanner as I have found someone in London to transcribe my mother’s letters, which I plan to edit into book form; and a must-have for here – a rice cooker!

Pool as seen from balcony; the landscaping is fab too

Pools – all four – as seen from balcony; the landscaping is fab too

Meanwhile the new lap pool is 60 m long and I have started my daily 1 km workout, pre-ceded by the gym. Ross – who for those who haven’t picked up on this – has become addicted to swimming and has started lessons with a local TI (Total Immersion) teacher. Whatever keeps him happy – although he looks ridiculous ploughing up the pool in his swimming snorkel.

Ross enjoying a noodle soup at local Food COurt on Saturday

Ross enjoying a noodle soup at local Food Court on Saturday

And tomorrow we are off to Shanghai, me for a week, Ross for a bit longer. Louise’s dear friend Jess lives there so we are looking forward to a more local experience of the sights, and some gastronomic adventures.

forgot to bring and bedroom chairs, so we have bought a Yo Yo

forgot to bring any bedroom chairs, so we have bought a Yo Yo


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in which I enjoy midsummer in England’s green and pleasant land

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Wild woman of the fells – going up the Gable

It’s hard to remember that only two days ago I was standing on top of Great Gable in bright sunshine admiring the Lakeland vistas from one of its highest peaks.

 As I sit here on a grizzly June afternoon on the train from Durham to Kings Cross I try to recall the past two weeks of my return to the green green grass of home.

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Parkhill Road, new lawn and cornus in full bloom

Leaving Singapore to return to England for a four-week foray has been fun – meeting old friends and family for lunches and suppers; celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary; doing the first cut on our newly laid lawn; the first balmy al fresco supper – on Midsummer’s Day,  the anniversary of Louise’s memorial, so always a special day, and one of her favourites. I show off my Tom Yum Goong to Son and friends. Also doing the not so fun – deciding what to take to Singapore for the next few years, what to leave, fighting with John Lewis deliveries and directing the packing.

The Tom Yung Goon special on Midsummer's day

The Tom Yum Goong special on Midsummer’s day

A little mental titivation at Cambridge University in between, with old chum Fi, to hear Professor David Spiegelhalter, speak engagingly and fascinatingly on hazard ratios (he is a statistician!) and its effect on us: encouraging that as a woman I am going to live longer than men, less so that my life chances decrease by 9% per annum between the ages of 25 and 80, but on the positive side, its only the first 20 minutes of exercise that do any good, the next 40 are a waste of time…phew!

Glen View cottage in Grasmere

Glen View cottage in Grasmere

And so to continue on my very English odyssey by way of several days in the Lake District. Dear friends John and Hilary Pooler have pretty cottage in Grasmere (Glen View can be booked via http://www.lakelovers.co.uk/) and are local experts. We had two great days walking in fine weather – a Great Gable circuit, starting at Honister Pass and ending at Seatoller; and then the Helm Crag circuit, descending via Far Easedale; and two more normal Lakeland days, meandering about at lower levels in the on/off drizzle.

Great Gable summit

en route to Great Gable overlooking Buttermere

Hilary atop Green Gable looking across to Great Gable

Hilary atop Green Gable looking across to Great Gable

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In another life, when I worked for Heinemann Educational Books (1979 -1993), our founder and my mentor, the old man of Lakes Alan Hill, used to organise an annual, what would now be called ‘teambuilding’, trip to Borrowdale, where Heinemann owned a share in Seatoller House, a charming B&B. The Lake District Trip, as it was known, was a great leveller, with 30 plus of us at all stages of fitness and fatness chugging up and down dale and hill in the day, and repairing to hostelries of an evening (always the same rotation: the Bridge at the Scafell Hotel, the Fishes in Buttermere, and the final night party at Alan’s Rossthwaite house); finishing by playing charades and parlour games – squeak piggy squeak and wink murder were favourites.

Steep descent via Aaron's Slack  to Styehead Tarn- now a much better path than in the 1980s

Steep descent via Aaron’s Slack to Styehead Tarn- now a much better path than in the 1980s

Great Gable from Honister Pass brought so many memories flooding back: Alan and I leading the slow group – re-named on two occasions as the ’pregnant cripples’ to reflect our respective statuses; banana and honey sandwiches, crisps and Just Juice forming the perfect picnic; baking hot days and stripping off to undies to swim in the tarns and pools – such as Sour Milk Gill; the time our new and reviled MD dropped a pack of condoms out of his wallet (he never recovered form the ignominy); sharing a double bed in the ‘family room’ at Seatoller House with female colleagues. These were indeed the times of our lives.

Self outside Seatoller House

Self outside Seatoller House

Thinking of Alan, long since dead, reminded me of the times I used to take him round Africa to help decide on company strategy. So eccentric was he that he packed two identical suitcases – lest one got lost! He was renowned for always wanting to change his room, wherever he stayed and for being professorially absent-minded. On every departure I had to check to see what he had forgotten – shirts, underpants and his medications – always at least one – and scoop them up! He loved to regale people of our adventures (and we had many) – always embroidering the tale to make it funnier.

On top of the shoulder leading fromHelm's Crag

On top of the shoulder leading from Helm’s Crag

The Lakes also reminded me of family holidays with our son, then aged three, rampaging up the fells and our beloved Louise, in a back pack. And later, with the Pooler family again, the children in their teens, girls rock climbing, boys desperately trying to follow the World Cup in Japan, even resorting to taking a portable TV up the fells.

A lonely sheep...

A solitary sheep…

Happy memories of happy times. Tinged with sadness.

Looking towards Grasmere

Looking towards Buttermere

Its all about friendship...

It’s all about friendship…

Grasmere meadows - fileds of cloth of goldGrasmere meadows – fields of cloth of gold

Looking towards Grasmere

Looking towards Grasmere

A babbling brook - I come from haunt of coot and tern

A babbling brook – I come from haunt of coot and tern