How to turn a cocoon into a kilometre of silk

Today we stayed in Shanghai and went to visit some silkworms. We were told that we were going to see how silk was manufactured. I assumed that we would be shown a few old looms and then be let loose in a shop full of silk garments for half an hour. I was wrong. Instead, we were shown into a room with some boxes of silkworms. They were all happily munching on their mulberry bush leaves. A silkworm larvae is quite silky to touch. I know this because I have touched one. However, this is not where silk comes from. The silkworm eggs hatch into larvae. These caterpillar-like larvae eat continuously for over 30 days by which time it has grown up to 10,000 time bigger. Then it weaves a cocoon around its body using a single strand of silk that can be up to a kilometre long. If it is lucky, inside the cocoon, the caterpillar transforms into a brown, motionless pupa. This stage lasts about 12 days. Then the pupa turns into furry, white, flightless adult moth. The moth does not eat and will die within two weeks. In that time, its only goal is to mate and lay eggs. Thus, the cycle can restart. The less lucky silkworms get boiled. The wet cocoon is unravelled by machines that tease out the single thread and the combine several threads into a heavier thread that can be used for weaving.

China began cultivating silkworms some 5,000 years ago. Even now, 70% of the worlds silk comes from China. The market is worth around $20 billion per year. Mahatma Gandhi, and others, were critical of silk production citing the ahimsa (Buddhist) philosophy “not to hurt any living thing”. This has led to the modern production practice known as Ahimsa silk, which is wild silk (from wild and semiwild silk moths) made from the cocoons of moths that are allowed to emerge before the silk is harvested. The process being described to us contained no mention of how the pupae mysteriously disappeared. In China, street vendors often sell roasted silk moth pupae. The silkworm droppings and secretions are used in traditional Chinese medicine. So, at least nothing is wasted.

As an alternative to spooling off the silk thread, the entire cocoon can be stretched out. This is what we saw next. Several people pulled out the cocoon into a sheet of fibres. Many of these sheets were laid together and used as the filling for a duvet. It did make an exceptionally good filling. Light, warm and unlike, goose down, dust free. We found out what all this was really all about when we were taken into a warehouse selling every possible size of silk duvet. International shipping is available. After this came the shop with all the silk garments, silk sheets and the rest of it. Princess travels with a silk pillowcase and decided that it was time for a new one. So, we left the silk carpet shop like good tourists with a bag of our purchases.

Next up was the classical Yu Garden. This could have been genuinely nice. The Yu Garden is considered to be one of the most perfect examples of Chinese garden style. Built by the Ming-era governor, Pan Yunduan, as a retirement gift for his father. Sadly, the father died before the garden was completed. Described as “home to exquisite jade rock, goldfish-filled ponds and stunning, tranquil pavilions”. The garden is a remarkable, heavily sculptured place that, with a bit of peace and quiet, would have been pleasant to contemplate. However, we were doing it Chinese style. Which meant thousands of people all packed in together and falling over each other. It really was ridiculous. The only way you could see a plant was by looking past or round several people. If you got close to a fishpond, you were in danger of getting pushed in. The bustle, the shoving, the smell and the constant movement of hundreds of bodies was inescapable. Just trying to get out of the place was a major effort of squeezing, pushing and apologising.

We made it. And popped out into an area of Shanghai known as The Old Town. This is the traditional centre of Shanghai and still has cobbled streets. It is packed with traditional shops selling herbal medicines, handicrafts, Chinese tea and endless food shops. Wandering around here you would conclude that the locals spend most of their day eating.

We had some brief respite from the crowds by visiting the second tallest building in Shanghai. I suspect the tallest building was outside the budget of Wendy Wu, the company that organised the whole China trip. The weather was dull and overcast making it difficult to get any great pictures through the windows of the observation deck. Looking down, through the hollow centre of the building was quite interesting.

In the evening we went on a boat trip down the river to see the lights. Did I mention a comfortable seat and a beer while the city drifted past? No, because this is China and the boat was packed with people. Fortunately, we are getting slightly wiser to this now. Along with Bruce and Anita, we made our way to the top deck as quickly as we could. Here we paid an additional 50 Yaun to access a slightly less crowded section. Even so, if I had left my post by the railings, I would have never recovered it.

The trip was just an hour. Half an hour out and then back. There was no beer. It was not relaxing. It was quite fun to see the lights along the riverbank and I managed to get a few photographs.

Things to do when it rains in heaven

We flew to Shanghai. It was a tedious trip. Very early start. Drive to the airport. Queue to get in past the explosives checking. People are allowed through the door in groups of twenty or so. Each person and bag is dabbed by a stick with some blotting paper on the end, as we traipse in, single file. Then we are corralled in a fenced off area while the stick is sent off for testing. We are lucky and a few minutes later we are allowed into the airport. I imagine that if the test came back positive then we all get arrested while being individually tested and searched. We have arrived way too early. This is done on purpose to ensure that we don’t miss the flight. Sometimes this means can get breakfast. This time the best we can manage is a coffee and some French fries. We get on the plane an hour before take-off. The plane is packed and stowing our luggage is a bit problematic. However, when everyone is settled in place, twenty minutes before schedule, we taxi out onto the runway. The seat was small and uncomfortable so I was relieved that the flight was only an hour and a half or so.

Next day, we were driven by coach to Suzhou. First up was a short cruise on the canal. Initially this sounded promising. We were taken on a short walk down to the canal. It was overcast and raining. Not ideal for sightseeing. Then we were all packed into a small, enclosed boat. We were not exposed to the rain but I could barely see outside, never mind take photographs. We all sat there, squished up and uncomfortable for an hour or so. The boat may have driven around some of the canals – it was hard to tell.

Escaping from the canal boat we wandered off on our own and found a man with a rickshaw type contraption who offered to show us around Suzhou. This turned out to be great fun. We were taken down small alleys and footpaths. He showed us the walls and a bridge where there was a good view of the canal. The rain continued but the rickshaw had plastic sheets which kept us mostly dry. Diane met two dressed up girls that wanted a selfie with her. Eventually, an hour or so later, we were back where we had started. It was nice to have been off doing something on our own rather than following along behind a guide. We had agreed a price for the trip but now the man doubled it. I was slightly taken aback. What happened to the agreed price? “That was for one person”, he explained. “There are two of you.” I was impressed by this line of logic and his nerve, so I paid him. It still did not amount to much and made our driver very happy.

Lunch was particularly pointless. So much so that I took a photograph of it. Nine dishes. Six of meat or fish. Diane and I each had a plate of plain white rice with some boiled broccoli and crunchy lotus root. Trust me, that is not a meal. After that unexpected disappointment, things got worse.

Next up was the Humble Administrator’s Garden. One of several UNESCO World Heritage site gardens in Suzhou, this is the largest, most iconic and most beautiful. It dates back to 1509, the Ming Dynasty, when it was built as a private garden residence. Did I mention it was raining? Properly raining. The sort of rain that settles in for the entire day and makes everything grey and dull. Despite this the garden was packed with people. The combined result was not good. Groups of soggy people moving between small areas of shelter and then jostling for a patch of dryness. We stuck with it for a good 20 minutes and then headed back to the coach.

Suzhou is a very popular tourist destination. The attractions include canals, stone bridges, pagodas and gardens. Along with Hangzhou, it is sometimes described as heaven on earth. I suspect that description applies more to sunny days.

How to cultivate your Chi, Prana and Kundalini

We were up early and standing around looking a bit awkward in the park. Tai chi is an ancient Chinese mind-body practice that combines slow, continuous movements, deep breathing, and meditation. Google tells me: Originally developed as a martial art for self-defence, it is now widely practiced for health, stress relief, and physical rehabilitation. We had been marched out in public with a Tai Chi Master for our first lesson. Despite the early hour, the park was packed with people. Some were singing. Really, there was a small choir standing under some trees.  A few others were getting on with their Tai Chi and some more were just wandering around taking it all in. There was also a robot. We have seen quite a few robots in hotels. This one was a park cleaning robot. It had several spinning brushes to collect leaves and rubbish. Armed with these it was happily and quietly pottering around.

I have noticed people doing Tai Chi before. Without any real understanding on my part, it just seemed like some aimless wafting around of hands and legs. Now, after an intense hour with a Chinese Tai Chi Master, in China, it still seems a lot like aimless wafting. How this has its origins in self-defence completely eludes me unless you can scare an attacker off by standing on one leg and waving at them. I mean, it is a nice gentle movement. Slightly better than just standing still in the early morning park. I can also see that it might improve your balance. That is the standing on one leg part. Other than that, I was left with a deep and profound sense of “why?”.

We cultivated our inner life energy to flow smoothly and powerfully. We balanced our yin and yang. We meditated and nurtured a state of mental quietness. I had my second coffee of the day and, at last, we were ready to visit a farm. The coach drove us out into the countryside an d dropped us off by a narrow track through some fields. We had a local guide with us and he started coming out with some remarkable nonsense about farmers. Along with his commentary, we walked past a smart new building with a BMW parked outside. Apparently, the farmers are all rich and happy.

The Great Leap Forward was an industrialisation campaign in China. It began in 1958 as commanded by Mao Zedong, chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (the guy in the mausoleum at Tiananmen Square). The goal was to transform the country from an agrarian society to an industrialized society through the formation of people’s communes. It all went terribly wrong and led to the Great Chinese Famine. Somewhere between 30 to 46 million people starved to death making it the worst famine in human history. Mao came up with some amazing ideas and had the power to make the happen. The Four Pests campaign was part of the Great Leap Forward. This set out to eliminate rats, flies, mosquitoes, and sparrows. You may not like all or any of these creatures but we need them. The damage this campaign did was immense. In many ways the ecology of China has never recovered. The agricultural system is similarly still feeling the echoes of the Great Famine.

What we saw was a pleasant rural scene. The karst scenery makes a great setting. There were fields of rice and other crops. A wide variety of fruits and vegetables including bananas and sesame seeds. We stopped to talk to a local farmer who was there with a buffalo and a calf. People lined up to be photographed with the calf. They were then encouraged to tip the farmer a few yuan. Just like your average BMW driver making a bit of cash on the side.

It was a one-way trip. We walked a kilometre or two and eventually arrived back at the main road where the coach was waiting. Just as we were leaving, the next coach of tourists eager to learn about farming arrived. Quite a pleasant walk but I am not sure we learned much about real farming.

The next morning was all about tea. We got taken to a Tea Research Plantation. This was, of course, a thinly disguised carpet shop selling tea and tea related products. We began in a field of tea bushes where we picked tea. Then we were shown how tea is processed. At least, how it used to be processed. I imagine it all goes into a factory these days. There was a rather unnecessarily drawn-out tea tasting. We tried three different types of tea. All hand made and fresh from the fields. As good as tea gets. This confirmed my understanding that I don’t like tea very much. Finally, we got to the shop. Many people walked out of here with boxes of overpriced tea. In the tea accessories section, I found a teapot priced at around £3,500. This must make the most amazing tea.

In the afternoon we went up a cable car. For some reason there was an old tank parked at the bottom cable car station. Gun barrel pointing out towards the car park. After the obligatory queuing, we clambered into a small gondola. Properly speaking, this was not a cable car (single car going up and down a cable) but a gondola lift or a continuous loop ropeway where multiple cabins run along a cable loop. This sort of lift is remarkably familiar to us from all the times we have been skiing. They are used extensively in the European Alps for getting people up the mountains. It looked so familiar that were it not for a label stating “Made in Beijing”, I would have thought it was from Europe. Every last detail looked familiar. We are in a country where copying is not merely tolerated but it is actively encouraged. Legal bastions such as copyright and patent law are not understood. Copying is considered a good thing. We have seen coffee machines that don’t say Nespresso and hair dryers that are not labelled Dyson. I regularly spot cars that look like a Porche, or a Jaguar or even a Rolls Royce. But they are not, they are copies. I think much of it arrives through this technology transfer notion. A company is attracted to China to manufacture their product cost effectively. The government may even offer inducements. Tesla are here. So are BMW, Dyson and many others. They can build their products here to sell them profitably to the rest of the world. Meanwhile, the copies start selling to the domestic market which, because China is so vast, may be larger than many world markets.

The views from the top of the gondola were excellent. There were many photography stations. Places you could pose with the mountain landscape behind you. This was full on professional stuff with props including stone ledges, an infinity pool, a wind machine, a smoke machine, a swing and so on. Each place came with a photographer all ready to go. We ignored all of these and wandered around the top for a while. There was a café where we enjoyed a cup of coffee. There was also an area stuffed with radio equipment and surrounded by a military grey steel fence topped with razor wire.

Eventually we came back down and rode the coach back to Guilin. In the evening was the standard sort of meal. We sat, in three groups, round a table with a lazy Susan in the middle. Food was delivered to the centre of the carrousel and we helped ourselves. No concession was given at all to the vegetarians. Seven of the eleven dishes contained either meat or fish. The remainder included plain white rice and some vegetables. On this particular occasion, we left after ten minutes and picked up some bean curd based street food, nuts and chocolate on the way back to the hotel.

Water buffalo and a spectacular show on water

I published a blog post out of order. Sorry. If you have paid any attention to this at all and are slightly confused then the correct order to read the last few posts is:

  1. A little fish banged its head. “Dam” it said.
  2. Chasing a golden dragon in the Wu gorge
  3. What is worth two birds in a bush?
  4. Water buffalo and a spectacular show on water (This one)

In the morning we left the river boat and took the bullet train to Guilin. Standard procedure. Queues. Passport. Crowds. Luggage. More queues. Small seats. Five hours later we arrived at a rather nice hotel that faced onto a large lake. Guilin is one of China’s most popular tourist destinations. A famous Chinese saying about the landscape of Guilin is “Guilin’s scenery is the best in the world.” It is certainly quite interesting and picturesque. The topography of the area is marked by karst formations. Triassic period limestone and dolomite rocks. What this means is lots and lots of small, steep sided hills.

Once we had dragged our luggage into the hotel, we all went off for a walk around the lake. It was nice to be able to stretch my legs after the long time in the bullet train. By Chinese standards, Guilin is a small city with just 3 million inhabitants. While we were there this population was bolstered by plenty of tourists. Some of them, the prettier female tourists, often hire traditional dresses. They then sit by the lake to be photographed.

 At the far side of the lake are two pagodas known as the sun and the moon temples. One of them sits on land, the other is in the water and looks inaccessible. We went inside the land pagoda, down some stairs, along an underwater tunnel to the sun pagoda and then up a lift. Eventually, after some narrow steps, we emerged at the top of the water pagoda to take in the views.

The Li River, running 83 km from Guilin to Yangshuo, is one of the city’s most celebrated natural features. Known for its emerald water and limestone peaks, the river section is a highly concentrated example of karst terrain. It is also a highly concentrated tourist area where we turned up the next day for a short cruise. This was billed a leisurely river cruise which, superficially sounded quite pleasant. Of course, I had forgotten the Chinese angle.

We queued to get onto one of a dozen or more boats that were all leaving at the same time. The boat was packed inside but fortunately, for me, there were very few people on the open top deck. After some jostling between cruise boats, we all set off – a great convoy of boats all heading in the same direction. In all, along the riverbank, I estimated there were about 200 river boats like the one we were on. All pretty much identical and being run by the same company. Each boat carrying 100 passengers.

The scenery was enjoyable. Ducks and geese by the waters edge. A few people fishing.  The occasional heron. At the start of the trip, the riverbanks were empty. Then we started seeing a few people and by the halfway point there were people everywhere. It also became apparent that there were two other types of watercraft. An electric boat that looked a little like a raft and could carry a dozen people. And a smaller boat that was styled on a bamboo raft although it was clearly made of plastic pipes. Just the three types of boat. No variety. Possibly all owned by the same state run company. But very popular. As we pressed on, more and more boats appeared. More people appeared on the riverside. Buildings could be seen through the trees.

I spotted some people, mostly girls, with cormorants. They had a pole with a bird on each end and were striking a pose for the photographer. Later, I worked out that the cormorants were stuffed. I never worked out why the girls wanted to be photographed with birds on a pole.

There were some water buffalo. It was hot so they, very sensibly, were in the water. Seemed very happy swimming along and would occasionally put their entire head under water. We came across more people in costumes being photographed. There were picnics and games by the waters edge. There were more houses and then suddenly there was a quayside. We tied up and all clambered off. It had been an interesting trip although I don’t think I have ever seen a natural beauty spot with so many crowds of people.

We had arrived at Yangshuo and we were going to stay here a couple of days. Our bags had been sent by truck and would be waiting for us at the hotel. This meant that from the docks we could walk to our hotel. An interesting route that took us straight through the town.

In the evening we went to a show. The Sanjie Liu Night Show, an open-air show which is directed by Zhang Yimou, the creator of the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony. We arrived at a quite enormous amphitheatre which, of course, was jam packed full of people. The show was performed on the lake in front of us. Powerful lights illuminated some of the surrounding hills. Boats were used to move the performers around and some enormous speakers on an island carried the music for miles. It was a spectacle. I don’t think there was a story, just a sort of theme about working people. Lots of loud music and colourful lighting. It all ended with many colourfully dressed people singing while patriotically waving Chinese flags.

What is worth two birds in a bush?

The weather remained obstinately hot, muggy, overcast, humid and generally unpleasant. We were herded off the boat along a floating causeway. Then up some steps and loaded into small, electric buses that whisked us off to Xianguanshan. This is billed as an Ancient Folk Culture Park near Fengdu, a county in Chongqing. The park reproduces historic ancient residential buildings, courtyards, temples, wood carvings and city gates in the Fengdu region. I am not quite sure whether these have been built in the style of the old building or if they were rescued from the gorges before they were flooded. Whatever, they are now part of a popular tourist stop by the Yangtze.

In many ways, it was the usual thing. Uncomfortably sweaty and packed in with hundreds of tourists. Not really my ideal way to spend a morning. Indeed, I had started to wonder just what I was doing there. The buildings were moderately interesting but it felt a bit like wandering around a museum without any exhibits. We are not too keen on museums at the best of times.

The one redeeming feature was the garden. Very few people lingered here. They were too busy getting to the next old house. There was lush vegetation and even some wildlife. We have seen precious little wildlife in China. I suspect they have eaten it all. After a few moments waiting quietly under a tree with dense foliage, it was delightful to spot a couple of birds. A Collared Finchbill and a Light-vented Bulbul is all it took to make me happy. I may be turning into a birder. There was also an interesting and magnificently coloured butterfly. Google tells me it is a Chinese peacock swallowtail.

Back to the boat and the last bit of cruising. In the afternoon, the sun finally made an appearance. It was a bit shy and did nothing to dispel the uncomfortable humidity. However, it did improve the light for photography. Sitting on the front deck with my telephoto lens, I was content to watch the world of the banks of the Yangtze River drift by.  

On the hills overlooking the river, I spotted many things that I would have like to have asked our guide about. He was nowhere around. Whenever he was not actively guiding us, he tended to slope off. I often caught sight of him smoking cigarettes and looking a bit miserable. Well, I thought he looked rather depressed, he was maybe just being oriental and inscrutable. There was a massive golden statue of a woman looking away from us. There was a tall, white pagoda catching the sun. There was a cenotaph looking strangely Egyptian. All these things remain a mystery to me. More comprehensible were the farming activities. Rice fields where it was flat enough. Cows in the water. There was the occasional person fishing on the banks and there were several boat yards. They looked a little ramshackle in some ways but they were obviously turning out some large working ships and appeared to be making a good job of it.

We arrived at Chongqing. This place is massive. A great, sprawling municipality the size of Austria but with three times the population. At 30 million residents, including rural areas. the municipality of Chongqing is the largest city proper in the world by population. The United Nations uses three definitions for what constitutes a city. A city proper is the geographical area contained within city limits. However you want to think about this, it is an awful lot of people and as far as I can work out, everyone lives in apartment blocks. There are thousands, possibly millions of these. Everywhere. All the places we have travelled there are apartment blocks. All remarkably similar. Some in great estates of identical towers. There are a few other types of accommodation but, anecdotally, it seems to me that just about everybody lives in the same size and type of apartment.

90% of homes are owned by their residents. Home ownership is remarkably high but at the same time urban land ownership is exclusive to the state. In a typical apartment block, the individual units can be bought and sold however the land on which the block is built is leased from the state on a renewable, fixed term contract.

This was the end of our cruise. We had another night on board and then in the morning we would head to Guilin.

A little fish banged its head. “Dam” it said.

We were going for a four-day cruise along the Yangtze River. This sounded great. I had visions of lounging around on deck with my camera, capturing river life as we drifted past. First, however, was another bullet train. The routine was familiar. Early start. Security to get into the station. Wait an hour. Queue to get onto the platform. Passport check. Find seat. Find somewhere for the luggage. Settle into small uncomfortable seat as best you can. Nearly seven hours this trip. I would have slowly crawled out when we arrived except that we were told the train would only be stopping for four minutes. As the train pulled into the station, we were ready. The luggage was ready. The doors opened and everyone in our group helped getting luggage and people off the train. This did not stop people on the platform from trying to get on. They are like that in China. Absolute experts at being crowds, pushing and shoving. They were working to the same four-minute deadline and did not care much about anything else. For a few minutes there was a glorious chaos. I suspect some bags may have been lifted off, then back on and finally off again, or visa-versa. We prevailed. They prevailed. The train doors shut and the Japanese looking Chinese bullet train slid away. Rather remarkably, everyone and everything was in its correct place.

We made our way to a coach. The coach made its way to the docks. We began our cruise, in the manner of most cruises, by queuing for ages to get onto the boat. There was a steep drop down to the river. We rode a strange funicular type of carriage to get there. After the obligatory introductory safety talk, we found our cabin. It was rather nice. A decent size with a balcony and a big, comfy bed. Our home for four nights. Lovely.

The Yangtze River is one of the world’s great waterways. This 6,300 km river has its origins high up in the snow-covered mountain of Tanggula, Tibet. It empties into the East China Sea near Shanghai. Known as China’s “lifeline,” its basin supports roughly one-third of the country’s population. The river produces a massive share of China’s rice and freshwater fish. In this way it drives nearly half of the national economy. The Yangtze is also home to the Three Gorges Dam, the world’s largest hydroelectric power station. This was to be our first excursion of the cruise.

China invaded and annexed Tibet in 1950–1951 to secure its strategic southwestern borders, claim vital natural resources, and assert historical claims of sovereignty. The People’s Republic of China (PRC), led by Mao Zedong, maintained that Tibet had been an integral part of China since the Qing dynasty and viewed the military action as a “peaceful liberation” to restore internal order and reclaim lost territory. Beijing framed Tibet’s traditional theocratic system as a backward feudal society that needed to be modernized and freed from elite rule. China presented themselves as the good guys liberating a repressed Tibet.

Of course, there were a few other considerations. Securing the high-altitude Himalayan frontier gave China a dominant military and geographical buffer against South Asia, particularly India. The Chinese Communist Party (CCP) feared an independent Tibet might align with Western powers or India during the Cold War. Most importantly, Tibet contains the headwaters of major Asian rivers (such as the Yangtze and Yellow Rivers), which are vital for irrigating and sustaining eastern China’s population centres. Which is why the Three Gorges Dam started me thinking about this. Finally, control of the region offered access to abundant mineral wealth, raw materials, and vast land reserves.

Following the military defeat of the Tibetan army at Chamdo in October 1950, the Tibetan government was pressured into signing the Seventeen Point Agreement in 1951. Tensions eventually erupted into the 1959 Tibetan uprising, forcing the 14th Dalai Lama into exile in India and leading to direct Chinese rule. This whole period was rather nasty. Many Tibetans were imprisoned and tortured. Others fled to neighbouring countries. Temples and important historic and religious artifacts across the country were wrecked. The people suffered, the culture was destroyed and Chinese rule was enforced. Unfortunately for Tibet, it is not connected with the west, it has no resources of interest to the west and so nobody was there to help. In 1960, the International Court of Justice received a report accusing the Chinese government of genocide against Tibetans as a religious group. Other Tibetans have offered accounts of massacres, tortures and killings, bombardment of monasteries, extermination of whole nomad camps, and the use of military equipment provided by the Soviet Union for Chinese punitive operations. Over 6,000 monasteries in Tibet were destroyed.

The Cultural Revolution launched in 1966 (that gave rise to the Tiananmen Square massacre) was a catastrophe for Tibet. Large numbers of Tibetans died violent deaths and the number of intact monasteries in Tibet was reduced from thousands to less than ten. The Central Tibetan Administration claimed that the number that have died of starvation, violence, or other indirect causes since 1950 is approximately 1.2 million. The situation is still far from being resolved. The Dali Lama is still in exile, Tibet is still mostly closed off, Tibetan culture is suppressed. Since the 2000s, China has invested heavily in the region but generated controversies due to the sinicization of Tibet. Human rights abuses remain a concern especially where it comes to freedom of religion and political prisoners.

Since we were moored in sight of the dam, it was not a long drive to the viewing area. We did however need to pass through several security checks to get there. The weather was still very warm but it was overcast and raining. China is enormously proud of its dam and it appears to be a big tourist attraction. At one side of the dam is a large lock system so that river boats can pass. The Yangtze plays a very important role as a transport corridor. The locks are impressive. Up there on the Panama scale. We drove across the locks so I could only take photographs through the window of the coach – never very satisfactory.

From the car park we needed to queue (obviously) and then pass through security and the usual checks. After this came a series of long elevators up the hillside. Outside elevators, packed with people, in the drizzle. This felt rather strange, riding on an elevator in the rain. Eventually, we arrived at the top where the large, crowded viewing area was. Unfortunately, there was not a lot to be seen because of the rain and the mist. We walked back down a different way. Took us past some food stalls where you could buy shrimps and little crabs. The crabs were sufficiently small that, I think, the only way you could eat them would be to crunch them whole. Never saw anyone do this though so my views are just conjecture. Eventually, we walked through a small park area right next to the dam. Despite the rathe gloomy day, the dam was resplendent with Chinese flags.

Back at the boat, we settled down for our second night of the cruise. The food was reasonable. Certainly better, for us, than the previous few days. There was also plenty of red wine. In the bar there was a cabaret. We watched it for a few minutes and then opted for the TV in our cabin. Second night of the cruise and the boat had not left its moorings yet.

Chasing a golden dragon in the Wu gorge

In the morning, the weather had not improved at all. The scenery however, had changed. During the night, the ship had moved a short way up stream. We are above the Three Gorges Dam. That is to say, we are in the reservoir part. It does not feel much like a reservoir because of the way it is formed out of steep sided mountains. The water underneath us is deep. The dam wall is 185 m high so the water here is up to 175 m deeper than it used to be. 13 cities, 140 towns and 1,350 villages were flooded by the reservoir. 1.4 million people needed to move. These people were moved to new homes by the Chinese government, which considered the displacement justified by the flood protection provided for the communities downstream of the dam. Many of the displaced people struggled to find work and their living standards declined. Older people were especially badly affected. Younger generations benefited from the educational and career opportunities afforded by moving to large cities.

I was a bit disappointed that we had moved during the night when I could not see anything. After breakfast, we did go on a cruise but not in our big river boat. We were scheduled to go on a much smaller boat to have a look up some of the smaller gorges off to the side of the main river. I imagined a relaxing couple of hours, sitting comfortably, enjoying the sights of the river. The reality was loads of people crowded onto a small boat. Inside, all the seats were rapidly snapped up. That was ok because I could not take good photographs through a grubby window. Up on the top deck there was fresh air and, again, a great mass of people manoeuvring for a good position near the railings.

The trip was a couple of hours but it was far from relaxing. Food and drink were being sold. Obviously, it was at extra cost but the bigger problem was that food appeared to universally involve meat or fish. I wanted a cheese sandwich not a bowl of noodles with squid tentacles and the offal of unspecified animals. On the top deck, I braced myself against the railings as best I could and tried to ignore the drizzle. We steamed up a gorge along with a small flotilla of similar ships. It was moderately interesting. Announcements were made very loudly and in Chinese. This might have been a commentary on where we were or it could have been advertising for the noodle pots. We passed a few interesting rock formations, a small temple and eventually arrived underneath a suspension bridge. I tried to take a few photographs although it was not always easy to get an image that did not include somebody’s head.

The skipper did an excellent job with a three-point turn under the bridge. Then we set off back. This, predictably, was terribly similar to the trip out. Meanwhile below decks, many of the locals had polished off their noodles with offal and were falling asleep. I guess they had seen everything they needed to on the outward leg. Coming back was faster. We were going downstream. Before long we were back on our ship and, at long last, we got to do some river cruising on it. Sneaking around in the dark does not count.

The next section of the Yangtze River is narrow and steep. Two gorges in quick succession. The 40 km Wu Gorge is known for its quiet beauty, forest-covered mountains and cliffs so sheer that the sun barely penetrates the precipices. That is what the brochure states. If the clouds cleared then you still would not be able to see the sun. Then comes the more dramatic Qutang Gorge. 8 km long and 150 m high. There is no problem with the water depth. No danger of shallows. After the dam was built, the water level rose by over a hundred metres. The walls of the canyon are steep. There are no shallows. It was fun to sit out on deck watching the boat navigate the narrow passage. I imagine the gorge must have been truly spectacular before they were filled with water. Some ships were coming the other way, so I amused myself by waving at them.

We passed a temple and a town and a pagoda and many, many cliffs. Some of the rock faces had writing on them. I could not understand the Chinese characters but imagined them to be state approved words of inspiration and encouragement.

An hour or so before sunset we arrived at Wanzhou. Here we moored up for the night along with many other tourist boats. One particularly caught my attention in that it was dressed up as a dragon. A gold tourist ship dragon. Looked great from a distance but when we got closer, we could see that it was a bit tatty. Good effort though.

How to clean your ears while drinking tea

Another bullet train. This time for four hours. It was the normal procedure. Get up way too early so that we can wait for an hour at the station. Then start queuing and eventually get us and our bags onto the train. The rest of the trip is about staving off boredom and hoping the small, uncomfortable seats do not give me haemorrhoids. Main excitement of the trip was getting a packed lunch delivered. They do not serve much food on the train. However, you can ring ahead and get someone to bring a packed meal to the train. Our meals were waiting on the platform as the train pulled into the station. They were handed into the correct coach and then distributed by our guide. Each meal was elaborately packaged in an insulated bag. The main part of the meal was in a second insulated container. Accompanying it were disposable utensils and a hygienic wipe. Unfortunately, the food was rubbish. For us, the vegetarians, it was just a pile of plain vegetables. I wondered a little about the amount of waste. An awful lot of single use plastic. That seems to be normal in China. Single use water bottles are ubiquitous. We did not see any attempts at ecologically friendly packaging at all.

We eventually arrived at Chengdu, checked into our hotel and then went out to see the face changers. The Chinese art of face-changing, known as Bian lian, is a 400-year-old dramatic technique from Sichuan opera where performers switch vividly coloured masks in the blink of an eye. I found it simultaneously entertaining and rather alarming. You cannot see the masks changing. The performers wear up to 15 ultra-thin silk masks stacked on top of one another.  Fine threads of silk connect each mask to different parts of the costume. A fast head turn, a sweep of a fan, or a wave of a hand pulls the top mask away into the costume instantly. Expert performers can swap several masks in just a few seconds. Unfortunately, once you have seen a few face changes the novelty wears off and the rest of the show was fairly mediocre.

In the morning, we were up early to see the pandas. As far as I was concerned, this was the real reason we were in Chengdu. Giant pandas once roamed across Southeast Asia from Myanmar to northern Vietnam. Their range in China spanned much of the southeast region. In 2001, it was estimated that the range of the giant panda had declined by about 99% of its extent in earlier millenniums. Today, they just inhabit a few mountainous regions in China. Deforestation and poaching drove panda numbers down to around 1,000. They are now strongly protected and have several dedicate reserves. Even so there are only maybe 2,000 in the wild and some 700 in captivity.

The Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding is a government-funded non-profit breeding and research institute for giant pandas, red pandas, and other rare animals, located in Chengdu, Sichuan. 124 pandas have been born there since it was established in 1987. The declared mission is to “be a world-class research facility, conservation education centre and international educational tourism destination.” It is also a massive tourist attraction. When we arrived, the whole place was absolutely packed with people. There were enormous queues for everything. We needed to be scanned by security and then have our passports scanned. Then, after some more queuing, we were driven by golf cart up to where the animals are. We had to pay extra for the buggy ride. Presumably, we could have walked but it was several kilometres and the weather was scorching sweaty. Even if you made there and back without heatstroke then there would not have been enough time to see anything. There were a lot of little extras like this on the tour. Meals are provided but not drinks. Any drinks. Water, for goodness sake. It is an extra that you have to pay for.

We arrived at the zoo. What is the difference between a zoo and a research base? I don’t know but here were animals in cages, cafes, souvenir shops, ice cream shops, panda statues, panda memorabilia and crowds and crowds of people. The walkways were six deep with tourists trying to spot a panda. Fortunately, I am taller than many of the people here so I could take photographs over the top of them with my telephoto lens. The temptation to rest it on somebody’s head was almost irresistible. If you are small and want to come here then be prepared to fight. We wandered around for a couple of hours and managed to see a few pandas. They are remarkably cute and fascinating to watch. Unfortunately, standing there in the baking sun and pressing crowds it was not a very relaxing experience. The pandas were in large open compounds. Some singly and others in small groups. The compounds looked to be seriously escape proof and even featured electric fences. The bears had trees and smaller plants to make the place seem a bit more natural but not really a lot of space. The viewing walkways overlooked the compounds and just the noise from all those people must have been a big disturbance to the animals.

Along with the giant pandas there were also some red pandas. These don’t look anything like the big pandas but they are still extremely cute. In the wild, there are an estimate 10,000 animals and they are spread over a much larger. Unlike the giant pandas they are still being hunted and driven from their habitat so their numbers are reducing. In Nepal, 121 red panda skins were confiscated between 2008 and 2018. There was also a cage with a golden snub-nosed monkey. He was behind particularly strong wire netting. Shortly before we left, I spotted a small bird in a tree. Not part of the zoo but one of the very few wild animals that I have seen in China. Turned out to be a Yellow-vented bulbul.

Diane bought herself a green giant panda ice cream as we headed back to the meeting place. Then we were done. Another cart ride. A bus ride and we back in Chengdu heading for the park. I was feeling quite sorry for the animals in the panda zoo and quite exhausted from the crowds and the heat.

People’s Park is described in our itinerary as a pleasant respite from urban Chengdu. It is not. It is just as hot and crowded as anywhere else. There are some nice flower beds, bonsai and fishponds. However, you will need to push and shove through the crowds to see them. We were here to drink camomile tea and get our ears cleaned. First, we needed to visit the matchmaker’s corner. Here lonely people hang sheets of paper with their romantic details for others to peruse. You might think that one of the many lonely-hearts sites on the internet would serve better – but that would only be because you do not know the Chinese internet. Next stop was the tables where tea is served. Apparently, this is the local tradition and popular pastime. Meet up with your friends for a cup of tea, a cosy chat and to get the wax extracted from your ear canal. We sat at some tables and ordered tea. Then the ear cleaning men arrived. Each armed with a set of tools and a headtorch. I declined the offer but others were up for it. In fact, if you looked hard in any direction, you could see someone bent over a tea drinker sticking various brushes and other tools into their ear.

Steam breathing dragons in the Muslim quarter

The day began with a lesson in calligraphy – the ancient, revered art of stylised writing using brush and ink. Considered a supreme visual art form in traditional China. The significance runs far deeper than just making some nice-looking characters. Calligraphy is viewed as a discipline for cultivating moral character, inner peace, and self-expression. Great works reflect the artist’s personal integrity and vitality through the speed, pressure, and rhythm of each brushstroke. It was inscribed on everything from imperial scrolls and fans to massive cliff walls, and mastery was required for civil service exams. I was quite pleased with my attempt to write the Chinese character for “man” 男 and our teacher, a university professor of calligraphy, gave me a little red stamp of approval. After that it all went downhill a bit and my paper started to look as if the ink bottle had been knocked over onto it. We ended up watching our tutor draw a picture of some bamboo. Then we were invited into the showroom just in case we wanted to buy any of the many pictures displayed there. This was a well disguised carpet shop but still ended up being essentially a sales pitch.

Next, we were taken to a market area in the Muslim Quarter. Described as the hub of Xian’s Islamic community this is a small but busy area packed with food shops. On our way there, we were given a talk about how well China treats it minority communities and how everybody gets on with each other. There are about 25 million Muslims in China. This sounds a lot but is still less than 2% of the population. Many of the traders who used the Silk Road were Muslim. Apart from goods, they carried with them their culture and beliefs. Islam was one of the religions that spread this way in the 7th to the 10th centuries through war, trade and diplomatic exchanges. The Muslim quarter that we saw seemed to be mostly about food. All types of food in hot, busy, colourful stalls. The scene did not strike me as very Islamic. Dress mostly looked Chinese. There were no burkas. Very few women even wore head scarfs. We did not spot any mosques or hear a call to prayer. There was no obvious Islamic art. If the area was Islamic then it was in a lightweight, easy sort of Chinese way.

Although Muslims have been in China for a long time it has not always been an easy relationship. There are around 12 million Uyghur Muslims. They live mostly in the far-west Xinjiang region, are ethnically Turkic and speak their own language. According to Amnesty International the Chinese government has placed over one million Uyghurs into detention camps and prisons. Human rights groups claim that these people face severe surveillance, forced labour and limits on religious practices like fasting or praying. The Chinese government states that these camps are vocational “re-education” centres and counter-terrorism measures designed to stop separatism and religious extremism. Hui Muslims make up around 11 million people living across the central and eastern regions. The authorities have also placed pressures on these communities. Overall, the state policies appear to be aimed at creating a sanitised Chinese version of Islam. I think this is what we were shown.

Lunch was, yet again, a bit of a disappointment but then we got taken to a pub. A real ale pub at that. Part of the premises were given over to a micro-brewery where several types of beers were being made. Many people like the mildly flavoured wheat beer. Personally, I struggle with a beer that is cloudy and preferred the strongly flavoured IPA. There was also a pilsner type lager and fairly conventional bitter. We each got a free beer. This surprised me because generally on this trip they do not miss a chance to charge us for an optional extra. We also got a couple of hours lounging around in the pub buying our own beer and chatting. This was very pleasant and also made a nice break from all the rushing around.

Back in the days of the Tang Dynasty, Xian was known as Chang’an and was an important cultural and historical centre. In the evening we went off to see an optional show that was billed as an exciting exponent of this prosperous society that keeps alive the splendour of this period. Optional meant we had to pay for it. The other option was to sit in your hotel room.

The show however was excellent. We had good seats and we had beer from the pub. The Sheffield City Hall will throw you straight out if you walk in carrying a couple of beers. Here, however, it is fine. I have no idea what the show was about. There was a lot of solid drumming. Even a couple of drum solos. Some dramatic music, colourful lighting and pretty girls dancing. What was not to like?

How to dig up a problem

Xian is not only famous for the Terracotta Army but also for its walls and numerous temples and towers. We started our day with a visit to the walls. This was quite fun. Early in the morning before too many people were around. A steep ramp of steps took us to the top of the walls. From here we could peer down on the city waking up underneath us. Some keen early morning joggers were running around the top of the walls. Down below a group of less energetic locals were doing their tai chi and a young girl was posing for photographs. We saw an awful lot of this in China. One or more pretty girls dressed to the nines looking their best for the camera. If you want to get the best effect, you can hire a frock and a photographer.

The day was already starting to get hot as we came down off the walls and clambered into the coach. 40 km east from the city is where the Mausoleum of Qin Shi Huang and his Terracotta Army are located. From the car park we had to walk. Then we had to queue and get through security. Then we had to walk quite a long way before queuing again to go through a passport check. In the normal run of things, a passport is not needed to gain entry to a museum. This is China. You need your passport to catch a train, visit a museum, go on a river cruise, enter a theatre or even visit a garden. I am not just talking about a simple glance at passport type check either. This is a full-on electronic scan. Insert your passport and wait for the light to turn green. Identity, location and time verified with the central database. Somebody is keeping very close tabs on exactly where you are. This is not just for tourists. Everyone needs to carry an electronically scannable identity card.

We still could not get to see the Terracotta Army. First, we needed to run the gauntlet of the Terracotta Army carpet shop. This began with a little workshop where they were making a little Terracotta Army. Souvenir army figurines made with the local clay so they looked a lot like the real thing. After the talk about artisan craftsmen, authenticity and the other usual stuff, we got shown into the Terracotta Army showroom. This contained hundreds, possibly thousands, of Terracotta Army themed souvenirs plus a lot of other stuff that was just touristy and Chinese. Took a while just to find the way out of here and then we were taken off for lunch.

Lunch turned out to be terrible and the day was turning out to be horribly hot and sweaty. So, I was feeling quite grumpy when we finally got to stand in a queue that would get us, at last, to see the Terracotta Army. The sculptures depict the armies of Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China. They were buried with him to in his mausoleum with the purpose of protecting him in his afterlife. The figures vary in height according to their rank. Obviously the tallest are the generals. The figures include warriors, chariots and horses. Estimates are of more than 8,000 soldiers, 130 chariots with 520 horses and 150 cavalry horses. Other, non-military terracotta figures have since been found in other pits, including those of officials, acrobats, strongmen, and musicians. The figures were discovered in 1974 by seven farmers digging a well. Shortly after the significance of the find was recognised the site became an archaeological dig, a UNESCO heritage site and a massively lucrative tourist attraction described as the eight wonder of the world.

Our wonderfully politically correct guide, Johnson, explained that the farmers were compensated and re-housed. However, the truth is that their farmland was seized and their houses demolished. The discoverers received almost no financial compensation—initially just one yuan—and many slipped into extreme destitution while the tourism generated immense wealth for officials and businessmen. One of the farmers, Wang Puzhi, committed suicide in 1997 after suffering from extreme poverty and untreated heart disease. Yang Wenhai and Yang Yanxin both died penniless in their 50s from severe illnesses. A few surviving members, such as Yang Zhifa, were later employed at the Emperor Qin’s Terracotta Warriors and Horses Museum gift shop to sit and sign books for tourists for a tiny daily wage.

The army is in three pits. Pit 1 is the largest and holds the greater part of the army. We had to fight to get in. Chinese, we have learned, spend a lot of times in crowds and queuing. They are not only exceptionally good at it but also completely ruthless. We joked that if you stood with your feet apart then someone would slip through between your legs. Sneaking under your arms is commonplace. Pit 1 is a massive, covered area with a walkway down the sides. You enter at one end and exit at the other. Inside, you need to fight to see over the railings as you get carried along towards the exit. It was all very hot, smelly and uncomfortable. Guards are posted everywhere and I was rather startled by the tools on display for managing unruly tourists. A sign proclaimed “No crossing. Violators must be punished”. You have been warned. Punishment is not optional.

Despite all this, the army is quite interesting. Several thousand life-sized figures all facing the same direction. Apparently, when they were first buried, they would have been dressed in standard armour and carrying real weapons. The sheer amount of work needed to create the army gives you an idea of the power that the emperor must have wielded. Right up there on the list of most powerful along with the Pharos of ancient Egypt. In a similar fashion to my first encounter with the pyramids, I was left with a wondering question about who came up with the idea of doing this and why they thought it was the way to go in the afterlife.

After Pit 1 comes Pit 3. A lesser pit with fewer figures in it. Then comes Pit 2 which appears mostly empty but does have some horses.  Dotted around all three pits were some indicators that this is still an active archaeological site. However, I did strongly suspect this was more for display than anything else.

Back out in the late afternoon sun we had to find our way back to the coach. This is no easy feat. The route back is long, a kilometre or more, and takes you through an entire village of souvenir shops, food shops and a myriad of other ways of trying to separate money from the tourists.

In the evening, we got the dressing up box out. After dinner everyone was handed robes and we all got dressed up before heading out onto the streets of Xian. This is really not my thing. I tried to go along with it and took a few photographs. Others were much more enthusiastic and set about engaging with some of the locals. At one point we came across a few people dancing on the pavement and everyone joined in. Nearly everyone. I felt my talents were better employed behind the camera.

The streets were crowded with people and well lit. It all made for quite a nice scene although I am not sure what the public thought about our pseudo-Chinese robes. I would like to imagine that they enjoyed us adding some colour and vibrancy to the evening. However, I suspect that some of them just sighed and muttered something about the nature of tourists. It all made for a long day. I was very happy to crawl into my bed.

How to build the worlds largest high speed train network

Our first morning stop was to visit some old hutongs. In Beijing, hutongs are alleys formed by lines of siheyuan, traditional courtyard residences. Once upon a time there were many of these. Now they are mostly demolished in the cause of progress. A few remain and are designated as protected.

We arrived in a large, open square where the locals were playing with shuttlecocks and banners. The shuttlecock game involves kicking a large shuttlecock between people. The banners were whirled around to make bright and colourful patterns. I am not really sure why the people were doing this. It seemed to make them very happy.

We were marched to a particular siheyuan where a friendly woman welcomed us and served tea. All 25 of us were packed into the tiny courtyard. Squished up on little stools while our guide explained to us about life in the hutongs. One of the things that got mentioned several times was how expensive a siheyuan was. Apparently, they are mostly privately owned and passed down the generations. I was puzzled at why a small accommodation in a rather scruffy area could be worth so much. Communist economics – what has happened to collective ownership? Much later, I got to thinking that the answer is that this is one of the very few opportunities to actually own a piece of land.

The woman played a tune on guzheng, a traditional Chinese plucked zither musical instrument. We all got the chance to look at an old door and some ornaments in a small side room. Then we were off and walking down the hutongs again. I imagine the woman was paid well for showing us the siheyuan. She had a bit smile as she waved us goodbye. The hutongs are incredibly narrow in places. I read the smallest is a mere 40cm. Unfortunately, we were not introduced to this one but even so, we discovered that trying to fit our group and car down the little streets was a bit tricky. Eventually we emerged by a Macdonalds burger place. I am reluctant to echo their claim to be a restaurant so I will just call it a place. This was slightly interesting however in the way that it had absorbed the local culture so as to fit in with the look and feel of the street.

That was it for Beijing culture. The next part of our journey was a bullet train to Xian. The Chinese bullet train network is remarkable. In the space of about 15 years, China has constructed the largest high speed train network in the world. 50,000 km of track with trains running at up to 300 km/h. For several reasons, this could probably only happen in China.

The technology has its origins in Japan and some other countries. In classic China fashion, this was initially bought in and then copied. An approach known as technology transfer whereby China uses its raw buying power to adopt foreign engineering, copy it and then bring it in house. The Japanese company, Kawasaki experience with CSR (China’s national rail company) is a typical example. Initially there was a contract to provide 60 complete locomotive and coach sets. Three were delivered from Japan. Six more were delivered as kits to be built in China with help from Kawasaki. The contract was then cancelled and China went on to fulfil its requirement for hundreds of trains without any external help. Kawasaki sued for breach of patent but failed because in China copyright is not really understood or recognised in law.

The second big advantage is that the state owns most of the land. The route of a high-speed rail track becomes essentially an engineering problem. Social, political or environmental issues can be virtually ignored. People may need to be moved and the government claim that they are fairly compensated for this. However, the investigations, planning and permissions needed in many other countries are superfluous. This is a powerful reduction is cost and time.

Finally, in such a large country, the manpower and funding are readily available. This is how, in the time that the UK has mostly talked about a single, short, high-speed trainline, China has built an entire network. The Chinese approach has not been without its problems though. The system currently has an accumulated debt of around $800 billion. It struggles to reduce this because tickets, although cheap by world standards, are prohibitively expensive compared to what locals can afford. The rapid expansion means that some areas are over-served and uneconomic. Widespread corruption during the construction phase has caused delays and safety concerns. Several senior officials have been dismissed over charges of bribery amounting to millions of dollars. In July 2011 two trains collided with serious loss of life. The collision exposed poor management by the railway company. This fatal accident, which happened in the midst of corruption investigations into railway officials, led to greater scrutiny in the Chinese press and the populace.

We arrived at Beijing train station with over an hour to spare. The station is immense and packed with people. We needed to queue to get in through the security scanners. They confiscated Diane’s hair cutting scissors which were 4 mm over the regulation 60 mm. After a long time waiting, we got into the queue to get to the platform. We needed our passports for this. Then we had to queue to get on the train and finally we had to find somewhere for our luggage on the packed train. Although Diane and I had reserved seats, we did not get to sit next to each other. The trains are fast and smooth but people are squashed in there like sardines. My seat was defiantly designed for someone much smaller than me. After six hours it was getting extremely uncomfortable.

But we made it and next day we were going to see the Terracotta Warriors.

Crossing the square quietly to enter the forbidden city

Back in the day, if you were an Emperor in the Ming or Qing dynasty and you wanted to ask for prosperity, longevity and good harvest for the people, then you would go to the Temple of Heaven. The temple is set in a 267 ha park, surrounded by a long wall which has gates at its cardinal points. Listed as a World Heritage site in 1998 it has been described as “a masterpiece of architecture and landscape design which simply and graphically illustrates a cosmogony of great importance for the evolution of one of the world’s great civilizations.  The symbolic layout and design of the Temple of Heaven had a profound influence on architecture and planning in the Far East over many centuries.” This all sounds wonderful and lovely for our first stop of the day. The reality is a hot, sweaty day and more crowds than you can shake a stick at. Thousands of them. We needed to queue for ages to get in and then we could barely move for people. The central temple is spectacular and quite interesting. However, before long, the hot sun and the pressing mass of humanity started to overwhelm the grandeur of the location.

Around the area are several buildings being used as museums. These are so full of people that you can barely see the display boards. When you do get a glimpse of them, everything is written in Chinese so we do not have a clue what it is about. There are four of these large museum rooms. We managed a couple of minutes in the first one before deciding to abandon the project. At this stage a cool, quiet corner for a cup of tea would have been ideal. The shade from a wall and an ice cream was the best we could do while fending off people trying to cuddle up to us in the shade.

Next stop was the Tiananmen Square. In the West, this square is often associated with the massacre of 1989. In a response to student protests, the government declared martial law. Soldiers entered Beijing with tanks and troops carrying live ammunition and firing on unarmed demonstrators and civilians. The Chinese government claimed about 241 people died (including soldiers), while independent estimates from the Red Cross, student groups, and foreign journalists range from several hundred to thousands. An unidentified civilian carrying shopping bags was filmed standing directly in front of a column of tanks leaving the square. This image became a global symbol of peaceful resistance. The Chinese government labels the event the “June Fourth Incident” and heavily censors all mentions of it online, in textbooks, and in public media. Public remembrance of the victims is strictly outlawed in mainland China. Recent political changes in Hong Kong have effectively ended the large annual vigils that used to take place there. The extensive censorship means that most young people in China are generally unaware of the Tiananmen Square protests and massacre.

We needed to show our passports and have our bags inspected before we could enter the square. There is a permanent and significant permanent police presence. Our guide warned us not to discuss or even mention any of the events. He also pointed out that attempting to make any sort of public political statement, wearing the wrong t-shirt, waving a banner or writing graffiti would lead to our arrest. So, best neutral faces on and with lips firmly zipped shut, we walked out across the square. Of course, it was all a bit of an anti-climax. Nothing happened. There were quite a few military types marching around being very military and trying to look scary. Do not photograph them. Do not laugh or even smile at them.

The square is extremely big. So big that the extent of the crowds was only really apparent when we were queuing to get in a later to get out again. In all, it took the best part of an hour to cross the square. Scorching hot and devoid of shade. There is nowhere to hide. Every single lamppost is dripping with surveillance cameras. My rough estimate was of several thousand in the square. A whole, massive networking and data routing system managing humungous quantities of video information. I could not help but wonder what they did with it all.

At the far side of the square is the entrance to The Forbidden City. This is the imperial palace which has been the residence of 24 Ming and Qing dynasty Emperors. The centre of political power in China for over 500 years from 1420 to 1924. The palace is now a UNESCO World Heritage Site and is the largest preserved royal palace complex still standing in the world. It may also be one of the most crowded palaces in the world. My legs were stiff and sore from our wall climb the day before. It was hot. I was thirsty and was getting worn down by the press of so many people. Is everywhere in China packed solid with crowds of people? I was struggling to engage my enthusiasm. I was even struggling to engage any interest in taking photographs. For me, this was a bad sign.

After a quick group photograph, we got shown around a few buildings. Then we were left to ourselves to wander around some more buildings. The palace is large and grandiose and spectacular. Inevitably, like a clockwork mechanism running down, we ground to a halt. We took a terribly slow walk to the next meeting place and then looked around for shade and ice cream. I should mention that I don’t like ice cream and very rarely eat any. Diane is the ice cream person. I am typically happy with some shade and a bottle of water. We found a stall selling imperial palace themed ice cream and then found a lovely place to sit. A shaded low wall without a crowd of people. Here we sat and waited for the rest of the group. Just as I was starting to regain a tiny modicum of internal balance and cooling down, a guard appeared and shooed me away from the low wall. Either it was of historical significance or I am not imperial enough to sit on it.

The evening ended with Peking Duck. Peking is the old name for Beijing but that is not because the city was renamed. The shift from Peking to Beijing is a change in spelling and transliteration systems. Peking came from older European spellings and the Chinese Postal Map Romanization system used in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Beijing uses the modern Pinyin romanization system adopted officially by China in 1958 and widely embraced internationally by the late 20th century. Peking Duck then – the Chinese do not appear to be able to get enough of this. Whole, cooked ducks are served and sold everywhere in Beijing. In the train station there are entire shops that just sell cooked, whole ducks in bags. Peking Duck should not be confused with Peeking Duck which is a duck having a surreptitious look around a corner. Obviously, I was not too keen in joining in with the duck mutilation and was even considering going off to see if we could find somewhere more suitable to us for eating. However, we went along with the macabre process. A poor duck was rolled out and a chef demonstrated how to cut it into little pieces. Why anyone would enjoy watching this is a little beyond me. Diane and I ended up with leftovers again. Some rice, some cabbage leaves and not much else. The company had promised they catered for vegetarians but this was not actually happening.

Can you see the Great Wall of China from space?

We had arranged a driver to collect us from Beijing airport. This seemed like a good idea at the time but unfortunately, she had a cold. For an hour we were trapped in the car with a sniffing, coughing and snotting driver. It was not pleasant. The noises were stomach churning but worse was the feeling that I was actively contracting a cold, influenza or even covid. None of these things happened. She did not crash the car. We arrived safely at our hotel.

Beijing Holiday Inn. An easy start for new visitors to China. Chinese hotel but with a definite nod to the west. Knifes and forks in the restaurant, coffee in the foyer. We had a couple of days before the group tour took off. This gave us time to catch up on chores, like laundry, phone updates and this blog. Also to explore the local neighbourhood at our own pace, which is terribly slow. We made the mistake of going to the Thai restaurant in the hotel. Every single dish contained meat. Even the deep-fried tofu had crab eggs on it. This high degree of meatification was a bit disappointing. I have been to China before, on business, twenty years ago. Back then I had no trouble with the food at all. Quite the contrary, the food was particularly good, varied and interesting. I discovered many new things. We have also been to Thailand more recently and the food for vegetarians was fine there as well. So why the meat-creep at this restaurant? I think part of it is to do with a kind of showing off to tourists. In many cultures, meat has a background as a luxury item. The addition of meat to every menu item is an attempt to impress visitors and demonstrate opulence. Whatever the reason, it is a complete pain to those of us trying to reduce the amount of violence in our diets.

Next day Bruce and Anita turned up. Our friends from Australia. They had come on a long-haul flight that arrived in the early hours of the morning. We said hello but mostly they just wanted to sleep it off. Diane and I mooched around close to the hotel in a gentle, unhurried way. We surfed a shopping mall, perused some pathways and pottered in a park.

Two days later, all 25 of us were in a coach on our way to the Great Wall. The whole tour group had arrived in dribs and drabs. We had eaten an evening meal together and completely forgotten each other’s names by breakfast. There is a rumour that the Great Wall of China is visible from outer space. This is a nonsense. For a start, where does outer space begin? Back in Victorian times it was posited that the wall could be seen from the moon. Why was this opinion asserted when nobody had genuinely traversed the 400,000 km to the lunar surface? I have no idea but I have noticed that factual evidence does not always need to be present in support of a good story. In fact, even from low earth orbit, the closest distance to earth that satellites fly, the wall cannot be reliably discriminated by the human eye. Various astronauts have claimed to see it although China’s first astronaut, Yang Liwei, admitted that he could not. The European Space Agency issued a press release stating that the Great Wall could be seen from 160 km altitude. The accompanying photograph turned out to be a river near Beijing. Leroy Chiao, a Chinese-American astronaut, took a photograph from the International Space Station that shows the wall. It was so indistinct that he was not entirely sure. Based on the photograph, the China Daily later reported that the Great Wall can be seen from ‘space’ with the naked eye, under favourable viewing conditions, if you know exactly where to look.

After an hour in a coach, we were definitely looking right at the wall. Close up it is thoroughly enormous. There was also a humungous car park with many, many coaches. Several sections of the remaining wall can be walked along from here. We were pointed at just one of these and told to be back by midday. The crowds were substantial. We needed to push and shove just to get close to the wall. Then it got steeper and more difficult as the crowds got worse.

The wall was never built as a single entity. Construction of some sections began as early as the 7th century BC. They were built across the historical northern borders of ancient Chinese states and Imperial China as protection against various nomadic groups from the Eurasian Steppe. Substantial parts were constructed during the Qin Dynasty and the best known sections were built during the Ming Dynasty. Despite its lack of visibility to aliens, it was voted one of the New 7 Wonders of the World in 2007. It has been made a UNESCO World Heritage Site in recognition that the defensive system of the Great Wall is one of the most impressive architectural feats in history.

We worked our way up the steep steps. Steps that were just a little too high for comfort and packed with people. It was hot and steep and arduous work. One section was particularly packed with slow-moving tourists. It reminded me of pictures I have seen of the Hillary Step on Everest when hundreds of climbers are trying to summit at the same time. Progress was desperately slow but we prevailed and eventually the crowds began to thin. More and more people dropped out as we got higher. We plodded on. Diane had gone beyond complaining and had become quiet. An extremely worrying sign. Also, we were running out of time. The final push to the summit fortress turned into a battle against ourselves and the clock. We prevailed. There was nothing much to do at the top other than take a couple of pictures and come down. The views were great. In the far distance we could see the wall zigzagging its way across distant hills. We made it back down in time but only just. Our only pause on the descent was to look at a Chinese mantis that someone was proudly showing off.

Straight after the exhausting epic of the Great Wall, we were led into the first “carpet shop” of the trip. The standard formula was there. A brief explanation, an assertion about genuine workmanship, some small demonstrations and an enormous showroom. This time it was jade but the real difference was that this time it was state sponsored. The Chinese tourist industry is remarkably good at taking tourists for all they are worth. The jade tourist shop was a fine example. It was absolutely enormous. A constant stream of coaches arriving and departing. Upstairs were numerous restaurants serving lunches to many groups. Downstairs was the biggest jewellery store I have ever seen and all dedicated to jade.

We did not want any jade so we twiddled our thumbs for a while and were happy to eventually be loaded back into the coach. The afternoon was spent at the Summer Palace. Billed as the former holiday retreat of the Qing emperors and a stunning example of Chinese garden style. Mostly what we saw there was people. Thousands of people. With the crush on the wall in the morning, we had our fill of people. Also, our legs were tired and it was too hot. We wandered round for a while to try and take some of it in and then searched for a quiet corner to sit and eat ice cream. The ice cream happened but the quiet corner was utterly impossible. There are so many people trying to be in the same place at the same time that I found it a little overwhelming.

Final part of the day was a show. It was interesting. The costumes were amazing. We were presented with half a dozen short story pieces. Some of these were classics of Chinese theatre and involved gymnastics and singing along with elaborate costumes and makeup. Fortunately, the show did not run on too late. Diane got a quick photo opportunity with one of the actors and then, back at the hotel, we were both very happy to take our tired legs to bed. I think only one other couple made it to the top of the wall so the pain was worth it.  

Two days to find the soul of a new city

Seoul is clean, modern and very shiny. A rather startling difference to Manila. The weather was better as well. Warm and sunny rather than hot and damp. Much nicer. Unfortunately, we only had a couple of days in Seoul so we had to make do with a quick look around.

In Manila, every time we arrived at the hotel, we were met by a gang of people trying to help us. Someone would open the taxi door. Others would grab our luggage. A couple of people would open the hotels doors.  The sole job of one guy was checking the inside of the taxi with a flashlight to ensure we had not left anything. I quite liked that. Had we been in Egypt, everyone would have expected a tip. In the Philippines, it was simply being helpful. Now we were in South Korea. Clean and modern. The taxi driver left us standing on the pavement with our luggage. There was no-one else there. We opened the hotel doors ourselves and carried our own luggage through. There was no reception. The entrance area was empty except for a small cart selling coffee and doughnuts. We could deal with lack of doormen, porters and bell boys but lack of a reception was a problem. It felt like we had gone from one extreme to another.

We did eventually find the reception. It was on the 2nd floor. Why? I was sufficiently puzzled that I explicitly asked. The only response I got was smiles. It was getting late. I smiled back as if I understood. They handed us a key and a room number. We understood at least how this worked. Half an hour later we had found an excellent Indian restaurant just around the corner and everything in the world was fine again.

If you do a search on things to do in Seoul, most of the responses will be about the DMZ and the border with North Korea. After Cambodia and Vietnam, we were full of war things. Enough killing and torture for a while. Plan B was to have a walk around Seoul and see what we could find. By luck, we stumbled across a pedestrianised shopping area. This was interesting. Possibly as much for the people watching as the contents of the shops. K-pop and Gangnam style themes were strongly on display. Many small and skinny young women strutted around in elaborate clothing that bordered on being a costume. Elaborate hair styles and perfect make-up completed the look. I was intrigued by the shops full of arcade machines. Just one type of game – the sort where you use a toy crane to lift a gift out of a transparent box. There were several shops packed scores of one type of game. Apparently immensely popular but why? Further on we came across a Harry Potter themed bar. It had a parking spot for brooms and a model dragon outside. Inside you could by butter beer. People had arrived in costumes to fully immerse themselves in the fantasy.

Next day we went to visit the Gyeongbokgung Palace. First job was to master the underground train system. The proved to be quite straight forward and we emerged, triumphant close to the Gwanghwamun Gate. I enjoy travelling new cities by public transport. It seems like an essential step in getting to know a place. The entrance fee for Gyeongbokgung Palace was only a couple of dollars however, a large sign proclaimed that entry was free if you were wearing Hanbok. This is the iconic, traditional Korean attire known for its vibrant colours, elegant lines and lack of complex pockets or tight fasteners. Should you wish to get into the spirit of this then, we discovered later, you can rent suitable attire close to the palace. It was all really rather nice. The majority of visitors were dressed in traditional costume. They paraded around in groups being followed by photographers. Only a few people, like us, were the obvious tourists.

The palace was built six centuries ago by the founder of the Chosun dynasty. In 1592, amidst the Imjin War, the palace was completely burned down. It was not restored until the late 19th century, during the reign of the penultimate monarch, Gojong. In 1910, Japan colonized Korea and systematically demolished the palace. Almost all the 500 structures were sold off and shipped elsewhere. By the 1945 liberation of Korea, only 40 pre-colonial buildings remained. Significant efforts to restore the palace to its pre-colonial state began in the 1980s. Since then, two phases of recreation have built dozens of buildings in the palace. Many more are scheduled for the future.

We would certainly have learned a lot more had we joined one of the guided tours. However, we were quite happy just pottering around taking in the architecture and the ambience. In places the contrast between the traditional buildings and high-rise glass skyscrapers in the background was quite stark. The central building of the palace is set in an artificial lake. Behind it is a small hill that is parkland. If you look in just the correct direction all you can sense is relaxed countryside with no hint of the city.

We walked back into the city centre as the light was starting to fade. The quantity and size of the display screens that adorn many of the skyscrapers is impressive. We walked past some equally impressive statues and discovered the really strangely shaped building. Most cities have one. We also passed a demonstration. Unfortunately, all the protesters’ signs were written in Korean. Even with a bit of Google Translate, I could not work out what they were upset about.

That was it for Seoul. A big, bustling, fashionable and modern city. In the morning we went back to the airport for the final leg of our journey to China.

How to explore Manila on a rainy day

Manila was a bit of a washout. When we arrived, it was hot and the pollution index was seriously high. From our hotel on the 20th floor, we could see a nasty looking yellowish-brown smog hanging over the city and obscuring buildings in the distance. The health advice was to avoid outside exercise. And it was hot. Obviously, it was hot, we are close to the equator. Well over 30°C and humid. High humidity makesiHH the heat feel worse.

We went out in the evening to find food. Manila is one of these places where everything is piled on top of everything else. Our hotel is a perfectly reasonable three-star hotel with a Starbucks adjoining it. However, two steps down the road, is a small, far more local shop, which mostly seems to sell pot noodles and usually has a collection of people, children and dogs hanging around outside. An old woman is selling fruit from a rusty basket on a bicycle. Then comes a lean-to shack with a charcoal burner at the front.  A couple of people are frying up some sort of fritters which occasionally get bought by passers-by. At the back of shack are children sleeping on the floor. It is impossible to walk down the pavement because it is being used for every conceivable purpose except for walking. There are people sitting, sleeping, praying, begging, fixing scooters, cooking food, playing games and fighting. A little further down the street are food stores, restaurants with two plastic chairs on the pavement, 24-hour massage parlours, a money-exchange, cafes, several bars and strip clubs. Barely dressed young girls lean out of the door to entice passing potential customers. Even though we are walking down the road, past the parked cars, we are assaulted every few metres by someone trying to get our attention. Get a tattoo, buy a drink, eat some noodles. The pestering is relentless. Strong smells abound. Some of the cooking is pleasant but this is mixed with the stink of rubbish and the occasional deeply unpleasant sewer smell.

It is all a bit full-on and by the time we reach a shopping mall, the Princess has slipped into a kind of culture shock. Stepping into the mall was to step into a completely different world. We needed to queue past the security guards and the scanner and then, suddenly, everything was bright and clean. Smartly dressed, pleasantly perfumed people were going about their clothes shopping or sipping latte macchiato with oat milk in the coffee shops. The air was cool and clean. Everything seemed fresh and modern. There were familiar shop brands and restaurant chains. It looked and felt like any contemporary western mall. Different worlds all piled on top of each other. Outside the mall there were grubby children in rags playing on the steps of the Sheraton Hotel.

Intramuros literally means “within the walls”. This is a small area within the centre of Manila. A centuries-old historic district entirely surrounded by fortifications. This was considered, at the time of the Spanish Empire, to be the entire City of Manila. Intramuros served as the seat of government of the Philippines, a component realm of the Spanish Empire. The walled city was the religious and educational centre of the Spanish East Indies. Intramuros was also an economic centre as the Asian hub of the Manila galleon trade, carrying goods to and from Acapulco in what is now Mexico.

Next day, the rain kicked in properly. Tropical rain in the rainy season. The downpours ranged from heavy to gentle but never quite stopped. The clouds were thick and heavy. Humidity was way up. You could probably wring water straight out of the air. It is impossible to stay dry outside. Far too hot for a raincoat. An umbrella helps a little but the rain is going everywhere in the gusting squalls of wind. If that does not soak you then you will soon be dripping with sweat because of the heat. There is no winning. If you go outside, you will come back soaked.

On the upside, the pollution was reduced. I imagine some of the particulate matter gets washed out of the air. When we were in Dehli, there was talk of seeding clouds to try and create rain in a bid to reduce the pollution level. Here it was happening quite naturally. This was possibly a good thing but the weather was not ideal for tourist activities. Simply going outside at all could be an epic. Trips into the countryside were completely out. There would be no views, just mud and rain.

Do not swim in Manila Bay. Levels of faecal coliform bacteria are measured here that are thousands or even millions of times higher than the safe limit. Probably a result of poorly maintained and overloaded sewage systems. This is especially the case during periods of high rainfall. Good snorkelling can be had around the Philippines but you need to get far away from the cities.  In our case, given what we had read about bacterial pollution, there was no way Princess was even considering the possibility of putting a toe in the water.

Peering down from our 20th floor perch, I can just see a section of road that is flooded. This is useful to estimate how bad the rain is. In gentle rain, puddles form either side of the road. With more rain, these expand until the road is completely covered. Initially nobody is put off by this except pedestrians. The traffic slows down but keeps going. As the flood depth increases less traffic passes. The little scooters are first to lose their nerve. Then the passenger carrying motor carts, small cars, larger SUVs and finally trucks. A quick glance at the flooded road section is all we need to estimate how wet it is outside. It is our rain gauge road. Just now it is at the small car limit.

For 300 years the Spanish happily plied their trade from Intramuros. Churches, Universities, Plazas and hospitals were built. In 1898 there was a war with the newly founded United States (US). Rising tensions in Spanish Cuba led to an all-out declaration of war. This concluded the same year with the Treaty of Paris. Ownership of Puerto Rico, Guam and the Philippines was ceded to the US. Cuba was set up to become an independent state in 1902. In a single year, Spain went from being a major world power to being a failing one while the US stepped forward as a newly significant player.

The Americans made drastic changes to Manila. Intramuros walls were pulled down to allow easier access to the city. The moat was filled in and turned into a golf course. An act that would probably please the current president of the US. All change again in 1941 when the Japanese invaded. This was part of their sudden sweep across the Pacific that was taking everyone by surprise. The Imperial Japanese Army was pushed back, eventually retreating into the Intramuros area. General MacArthur approved heavy shelling. Over 17,000 Japanese were killed and the Intramuros was razed. 40% of all the walls were destroyed. During the battle of Manila, which only took a month, 100,000 Filipino civilians were killed. Not long after WW2, the Intramuros was declared a historical monument.

Just as we were leaving to visit the Intramuros, the national emergency alert system barked into life. This is the mechanism that sends warning messages to everybody’s mobile phone. Severe rain warning. We could have guessed. Outside the Intramuros, we enlisted the help of two disaffected youths with motor bike carts to take us around. They assured us that they were trained and authorised guides. Each cart was big enough for one person. They were draped with plastic sheet so we could stay a little dry. We also had an umbrella each. Even so, a soaking was inevitable. The two lads tried hard. For three hours they ferried us between locations. We did not learn very much and I did not get any good photographs. It was quite fun. We eventually parted company back at the mall. Here we could dry off a little and find some dinner.

It was time to leave. We did not see a lot of Manila and nothing of the rest of the Philippines. Perhaps we will need to come back at a different time of year. We are sat at the airport now. The emergency alert system is still spitting out warnings but the planes are flying so we should be able to get to Seoul.

Visiting a old colony and the big buddha

The First Opium War began in 1839 when the Qing Dynasty enforced a ban on the opium trade. Opium was Britain’s single most profitable commodity in the 19th century so this was not well received. The navies of the British Empire and the last great Chinese dynasty squared up to each other. Inevitably, the technologically superior ships and weapons of the British prevailed. Hong Kong was ceded by way of compensation. 157 years later, in 1997, sovereignty was handed back to China.

Hong Kong is now a special administrative region of China with its own governing and economic systems. At nearly 8 million residents it is one of the most densely populated places in the world. Hong Kong has the most skyscrapers in the world, the most expensive residential property market and the longest life expectancy. It is one of the most expensive cities in the world and one of the most visited. The city has one of the highest per capita incomes, although severe income inequality still exists among the population.

We caught a few glimpses through the clouds before landing. Gleaming white tower blocks all looking remarkably similar. Islands, water, bridges, roads. Hong Kong looks very modern and busy from the air.

We bustled through the airport without any problems. All very quick and easy. Nothing at all like Manchester. Then we had to find our taxi. I had prebooked the taxi. This usually works quite well. Just after we landed, I got a message from our driver. After we had collected our bags, I checked to see where to meet him. More messages and pictures. Go past this shop. Go down the escalator. Follow this sign. Go round this corner. Suddenly, I felt like we were in one of those TV games where contestants race each other to follow clues and win a prize. Go into this hotel lobby. Down two more escalators. Go outside and call me. Ok. Outside I am out of range of the airport Wi-Fi now. The local phone carrier is not connecting – this is not unusual. Often there is a bit of messing around to get 4G data. Back into the hotel to use their Wi-Fi. Not straightforward but fortunately the receptionist is helpful. I get the message out. We gather up our bags and wait outside. Temperature is in the mid 30°Cs. Rain is in the air. Humidity is sky high. It is seriously busy. People and bags and taxis everywhere. Hot, sweaty and crowded. Welcome to Hong Kong.

We were in Hong Kong for a few days and every day the weather was the same. Hot, humid and raining for at least part of the day. One night we were treated to crashing thunderstorm which rattled the hotel for a couple of hours. First day we wandered down to the waterfront. The view across the harbour is skyscrapers and ships set against dark, rain laded skies. The crowds were unbelievable. It was just an ordinary day but it was ridiculously difficult to walk anywhere. Part dancing and part fighting, we zigzagged along the pedestrian areas. We were surrounded, in all directions, by young Asian people looking at their phones. A great sea of people with their heads bent forward and their attention elsewhere. At times, I felt like we had been pitched into some sort of dystopian vision.

Back at the waterfront we caught the Star Ferry back. This is a classic passenger ferry running since regularly since1880. Often cited as a “must” for tourists. We enjoy a ferry and this one was lovely. In 1897, a double ended ship design was introduced. This could be piloted from either end and sail in both directions saving time and money by not having to turn around. In 1904 adjustable benches were introduced. The back of the bench is hinged allowing passengers to face the direction of travel by just adjusting the seat. The current ships are about 70 years old which makes the whole experience a little like stepping back in time.

Hot, humid and crowded is not my favourite. Occasionally, we would be soaked by one of the short, sharp and incredibly wet, rain showers. We were finding it quite difficult to do any touristing but we did try. The underground metro train system is extremely easy to use and much of it has air conditioning. We crossed under the harbour and explored Hong Kong island. Many, many shops and skyscrapers. We discovered a Marks & Spencer shop where Diane could buy some new undies. 

It was Diane’s birthday. We took advice from a mutual friend (thank you Philip) and set off to visit the Buddha on Lantau Island. The day began with a metro ride to Tung Chung and breakfast in a pleasant square surrounded by coffee houses. Then came the cable car ride. We paid extra to go in a gondola with a glass floor. It was quite a long ride. 5.5 km. Quite interesting as well. The Ngong Ping 360 Skyrail was completed in 2006. The day before the official opening, on the trial runs, there was an incident where an arriving car collided with a late leaving car. The system automatically halted and 500 volunteers were stranded for over two hours. The cable makes a sharp left turn not far from Tung Chung and crosses the bay. It continues up the mountain side and arrives at Ngong Ping after 25 minutes.

Ngong Ping is a tourist village. It really is. I don’t think anyone actually lives there. Mostly, it is shops selling either food or souvenirs. We walked on towards the Po Lin Monastery and the Tian Tan Buddha. A 34 m bronze statue on top of the hill. 260 steps take you up to the Buddha. He is really quite magnificent. Sat comfortably on the summit looking all peaceful and serene. The hike up there is enough to feel some small sense of achievement without being a major challenge. Inside is a small museum and display area.

Back in Ngong Ping the heat was starting to get to us. We took a bus to Mui Wo on the far side of the island. The bus was cool or even cold inside and there was no-one else other than the drive. board. The half hour trip felt a little like a private tour. We even drove past the shiftily named Tong Fuk Beack.

At Mui Wo Pier, we were seriously outnumbered by shopkeepers trying to sell us a food and drink. We picked one and drank delicious, ice-cold beer while sitting at a table overlooking the bay. I am neither a fan of lager type beer nor of cold beer but on this occasion it was perfect. From here, we hopped on a ferry back to Hong Kong Island. This was a more modern catamaran where we were not allowed on deck. It was still quite an interesting trip back. Diane’s birthday was rounded off with a meal at a restaurant that specialised in freshly made pizza.

On our last day, we set off to have a walk around Kowloon Park. The rain got us. We walked around most of the park and then the rain arrived. Not a short shower this time but a full-on downpour that settled in for a couple of hours. In the evening, once we were dried out, we set off to get dinner. There is food everywhere in Hong Kong. From simply walking around the streets, you might conclude that all the locals do is eat. Much of it is very Chinese. All the menus and signs are in Chinese. Noodles, rice and many types of meat or fish. We avoided these since there was no way to be sure what we would be getting. Hong Kong is a remarkable clash of cultures. If you start looking there is every type of restaurant you can think of. Italian, Indian, French, Nepali, Japanese, Chinese, Thai, Vietnamese, everything. We would start off by using Google to find some type of restaurant, such as an Indian. Then we would go out and find it. This was not always as easy as you might imagine. Hong Kong is a mass of skyscrapers and many restaurants are inside. The address only gets you so far. Then you need to start looking for publicly accessible lifts with signs next to them. Or you might find yourself wandering around a small mall. On a couple of occasions, we simply failed to find the restaurant we wanted.

That was Hong Kong. Way too hot, humid and crowded for me. I often feel like a fish out of water in cities. Imposter syndrome. Everyone else seems to know what they are doing and where they are going while I am feeling a bit lost and unsure. Hong Kong seemed to bring this out in me more than usual.

How to say “Do not eat your grandparents” in 840 different languages

Papua New Guinea is the most linguistically diverse country in the world. At least 840 languages are spoken. I cannot even begin to imagine how this works. English is the language of commerce and the education system. The primary lingua franca of the country is Tok Pisin (Pidgin). PNG is also a megadiverse country. This is a technical expression. There are just 17 megadiverse countries worldwide and they house most of Earth’s species. Approximately 5% of known living species are in PNG. Approximately a third of these are endemic, not found anywhere else. It is a place of volcanoes and jungles. Barely explored rainforests hiding a myriad of tribes. Each tribe has its own customs, traditions and behaviours. Possibly its own language. Cannibalism was practiced here until recently. Very recently. Perhaps as recently as 2012. There is still an issue with Kuru, a rare, incurable, and fatal neurodegenerative disorder. Deceased family members were traditionally cooked and eaten, which was thought to help free the spirit of the dead. Kuru, a spongiform encephalopathy, is transmitted through infectious prions. These are particularly concentrated in the brain which was traditionally eaten by women and children.

All this verdant jungle requires a lot of rain, most of which was happening on the day we arrived. It was seriously throwing it down. Getting off the ship and into a small minibus was more than enough to get soaked. We were docked alongside in the town of Alotau, the capital of Milne Bay Province, in the far south-east of PNG. 14 minibuses arrived to collect pretty much every guest and take them on a tour. Stepping off the ship was like stepping into a shower. Warm and extremely wet.

First stop was the town market. This was surprisingly interesting. A wide range of fruit and vegetables were on sale. I could recognise most of them but not all. Peanuts, groundnuts, still on their roots. Yams, potatoes, spinach like greens, bananas and tobacco. The tobacco leaves were dried and then plaited into ropes. Various craftwork was on display including many brightly coloured bags, carvings and clothing.

Next stop was the cultural presentation. Fortunately, they had a large, covered area for this. The rain was keeping the temperature and the mosquitoes down. We were given a coconut to drink from. It was all quite comfortable. It was all quite dark as well. Between the grey, sullen sky and the open sided building, there was not much light for taking photographs. We watched some dancers. We watched a demonstration of cooking. As far as I could tell, a woman peeled a potato and put it in a pot. Everybody applauded, nonetheless. There was another demonstration of how to prepare a coconut. I was quite impressed by the demonstration of making fire. Doing this with just two sticks and some coconut husk on such a damp day was no mean feat. There was some more dancing and we were done.

Outside were a few stalls selling local craftwork. There was also a fruit from a palm oil tree just lying on the ground. Palm oil is an edible vegetable oil derived from the reddish pulp of the fruit. Although native to West Africa, it grows very well in PNG. Palm oil is the most efficient oil crop to produce, yielding 6–10 times more oil per hectare than alternatives like soybean or sunflower. Most of the world’s palm oil comes from Indonesia but it is gaining traction in PNG.

A stop at a local viewpoint was cancelled because of the lack of a view. We did stop at the war memorial. The battle of Milne Bay is commemorated. This was the first serious Japanese defeat in the Pacific part of WW2. Back at the ship there was a terrible queue to get back on board. I wandered off and found some Pacific Swallows sitting on a gutter. Then it started raining again. I photographed some rain and then went back on board.

That was it for Papau New Guinea. I think this is probably a truly fascinating place. Hot, uncomfortable and full of malaria, but still interesting. Sadly, our trip moves on so one soggy day is our lot.

Iridescent blue holes, a sunken ship and yet more fish

Espiritu Santoe is the largest island in Vanuatu. It supports a population of 37,000. The only real town is Luganville, which is where we docked in the morning. During World War II, after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour, the island was used by American naval and air forces. It became a large military supply and support base for a few years. The SS President Coolidge was a converted luxury liner carrying 5,000 troops. It hit a sea mine coming into the harbour area because nobody thought to mention that two of the three entry channels had been mined. The skipper ran the ship aground to avoid capsize or sinking and all but two hands were saved. The shipwreck is now a popular diving spot. Further up the coast is a place where the Americans dumped most of their used military and naval equipment. This is now also a scuba diving site known as Million Dollar Point. In highly fictionalised form, this island is the location of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, South Pacific.

Vanuatu has more freshwater blue waterholes than any other place in the world. Found hidden amongst the lush emerald rainforest, these iridescent blue holes are a direct result of Vanuatu’s unique geology. When it rains, water from the islands’ volcanic mountains flows underground into limestone caves, which corrodes the limestone and creates underground streams. Eventually, these streams resurface as freshwater springs, or what we know as the blue holes. The waters in these blue holes are incredibly clear, creating a dazzling luminescent effect that seems almost too perfect to be natural. That is what the guidebook says. We joined a group to go have a look at one.

A twenty-minute drive in a tiny minibus brought us to a bridge over a river. Here we got into canoes. Four people to a canoe with a man to paddle at the back. We did not have to do anything. Just sit there. The trip took about ten minutes. I quite enjoyed it. Floating along on clear, fresh water through dense, rich jungle. I didn’t see any birds or animals although we could hear birds. We arrived at the blue hole. A platform had been built around one side and this is where we got out. The water here is great for swimming. It is clear, clean spring water. Cool but not cold. Diane and I had brought our snorkelling gear but I think Diane was put off by the temperature of the water. I thought it was perfect and jumped straight in.

We had spotted a couple of small fish as we had come up the river. However, I was quite surprised at how much fish life there was when I started to look. Once I got away from the platform, where everyone was swimming and splashing around, there were a lot of fish. Big ones, small ones and flat ones. Underneath the overhangs and where trees were dipping into the water. Deeper down, I came across a whole big shoal of fish. No idea what any of them are. Google appears to struggle with these. It comes up with answers that do not seem confident. There are fish experts on the ship but they are hard to find during the day. Most of the fish can live in freshwater and seawater. I had a good half hour swimming around. We were all called out of the water. A short walk brought us back to the microbuses.

It was only lunchtime when we arrived at the ship. Still a few hours before we sailed. So, we got together with Philip and Susan and went to hire a taxi. We had no idea where we could go or what it would cost. A gang of taxi drivers converged on us. They were all waving sheets with pictures of potential destinations and they were all talking, loudly, at the same time. Many of the destinations were impractically far away but we eventually came up with an idea. After much discussion, we settled on a destination and a driver and a price that was less than the replacement value of a new car.

First stop was a petrol station where our driver bought fuel for the trip. We were only going a few kilometres so he only filled up with a couple of litres. On the map we had chosen a roughly circular trip with a short excursion along a spit of land. What we discovered was not a road but a very rough track. The driver very slowly and carefully made his way around all the potholes. The noise was terrible. He explained that a hubcap was loose. The reality was that the vehicle’s suspension was completely shot. We made it to the spit of land. It was private property and we could not go far. We stopped to look at some beach and I took photographs of a lad fishing. He had a weighted net which he would throw into the water and then gather back in. Back in the taxi we arrived at a large pothole full of water. Our driver did not want to tackle this. We turned round and headed back.

That was it for Vanuatu. Now we had three sea days as we headed for Papua New Guinea.

How to conquer fear and prove your manhood

While we were having lunch, the Seabourne Pursuit repositioned a short distance. We dropped anchor just off the Vanuatu island of Pentecost. A short zodiac ride brought us to the grey, volcanic beach. We were welcomed warmly and then got to sit around for a while until everyone had arrived. We were all here to watch the Land Diving (Nanggol). Boys and men jumping off wooden towers up to 30 m high. They have two tree vines wrapped around their ankles. These are just the right length so that, if all goes correctly, the jumper just grazes the ground with their shoulder.

A tight rope walker appeared. He was rather good. A vine had been set up a few metres above everyone’s heads. He walked along the rope. Walked backwards, turned around and balanced on one foot. That part of the entertainment concluded, we were herded up a fairly steep grassy slope. Benches had been set up around the base of the tower. I spotted a shady area a little further up the slope which looked ideal for taking a few photographs while staying out of the sun. As I made my way up there, I was stopped by one of the expedition team. “Are you part of the Image Masters group?”. No, I wasn’t. Image Masters is an optional Seabourn program. If you sign up, the ship’s photographer will spend time with you to help improve your skills. This had initially piqued my interest until I spotted the eye-watering cost. Anyhow, the shady spot under the tree was apparently reserved for these acolytes. Now, I am fairly sure Seabourn paid handsomely for us to attend the land diving. However, they did not actually purchase the hill and this was a public event. I explained this to the team member in terms that were much more polite than I was feeling. In the interests of keeping the peace, I did not go any further. Later, I noticed many people choosing to ignore the Seabourn rules. I also discovered that it was not the ideal position because of the way the cloud and sun were working and I went elsewhere.

The dancing, drumming and chanting started. A large group of people on the hill to the side of the tower. Rhythmically stepping from side to side. Many of the men had sticks like spears or javelins. The women held colourful bunches of variegated leaves. The divers were all up here and part of the dance. So were quite a few other people and the women. The sound of the drums and the chants rang out clearly across the hillside.

The origin story for Nanggol begins with a woman. She disliked her husband’s behaviour and ran off into the forest to hide. A vagueness surrounds the source of her dissatisfaction; however, she was definitely fed up of him. Her husband followed so she climbed a tall banyan tree. He climbed after her. She tied vines around her ankles and jumped back down. Her husband jumped after her but did not tie lianas to himself. Because of this oversight, he plummeted to his death. In respect for the escaping wife, the women of the tribe created the sport of land diving. The husbands, however, were not comfortable with seeing their wives in such positions, so they took the sport for themselves. Later, specifically designed wooden towers replaced the tree. The men continue to perform land diving so that they would not be tricked again

The nanggol ritual is associated with the yam harvest. It is performed annually in April or May. A good dive helps ensure a bountiful yam harvest. It is believed that land diving can enhance the health and strength of the divers. A successful dive can remove any illnesses and physical problems associated with the wet season. Also, land diving is considered a sign of masculinity It demonstrates the boldness of the warrior. Men who do not choose to dive or back out of diving are humiliated as cowards.

The time of yam harvest is significant because tower construction is best done during the dry season. The lianas have the best elasticity during this time. In 1974, Queen Elizabeth II came to see the spectacle of nanggol in the middle of the wet season. The villagers were persuaded to jump anyhow but the vines were not elastic enough. One diver snapped both lianas, hit the ground hard and broke his back. He later died in hospital

During the period of preparation for nanggol, the men seclude themselves from the women and refrain from sex. Women are not allowed to go near the tower. The spirit of the original woman who dived off the banyan tree still lives in the tower. She may seek vengeance, leading to the death of a diver. The men often prepare for their possible death. They will conclude any unsettled business or disputes. The night before the jump, they sleep beneath the tower to ward off evil spirits. The men must not wear any lucky charms during the dive.

The ritual begins with the least experienced jumpers on the lower platforms and ends with the most experienced jumpers on the upper platforms. This means that the first person to jump, before a large and expectant crowd, is a young boy. For boys, land diving is a rite of passage. After circumcision at about 7 years old, they can participate in the ritual. When a boy is ready to become a man, he performs nanggol in the presence of his elders.

The first lad to jump was obviously very nervous. He did well. After a couple of shy hand waves at the crowd, he hopped off the platform and landed nicely. This got him a round of applause. The next lad was equally nervous and had to jump from a higher platform. Each time somebody jumps, the platform on which they were standing collapses to help break the fall. So, each successive jump is higher than the last. Then came a lad who could not do it. He looked completely terrified. I felt sorry for him. It reminded me of at least one occasion when I was very young and very scared. After a long pause he climbed back down. I hope he was not treated too badly.

The construction of the tower takes several weeks. Up to thirty men help build it. They cut trees to construct the body, clear a site for the tower, and remove rocks from the soil. Several platforms stick out 2 m from the front of the tower, supported by several struts. During the jump, the platform supports snap, causing the platform to hinge downward and absorb some of the force from falling. Vines are selected by a village elder and matched with each diver’s weight. The vines need to be supple, elastic, and full of sap in order to be safe. The ends of the vines are shredded to allow the fibres to be looped around the ankles of the jumpers. If the vine is too long, the diver will hit the ground hard. If the vine is too short, the diver might collide with the tower.

Before dawn on the day of the ceremony, the men undergo a ritual wash. They anoint themselves with coconut oil and decorate their bodies. Men wear nambas. A traditional Vanuatu penis sheath. We had already encountered the chiefs wearing nambas in the morning. The two tribes on Malakula (2nd largest island in Vanuatu) are called the Big Nambas and the Small Nambas. They are named for the size of their nambas. Women wear traditional grass skirts and go bare-breasted. Only the men are allowed to dive, but the dancing women provide mental support.

In the mid-nineteenth century, missionaries came to Vanuatu and persuaded the natives to stop land diving. Being missionaries, their tactics for persuasion were probably very direct and unsubtle. By the 1970s the missionaries had gone off to annoy someone else and a righteous anti-colonialism spirit was arising. Nanggol is now seen as a way to demonstrate and reinforce cultural identity.

I moved to the other side of the seating area to get a better view. Each successive jumper was getting older, more experienced and higher up the tower. Each successive jump was more serious. Finally, we got to the very last jump. Right from the highest point of the tower. It was impressive. A long, long way to fall. Must take nerves of steel and the confidence of conviction in the tower, the vines and all the preparation. After a wave at the crowd, he clasped his hands across his chest, leant forward and pitched headfirst off the platform. It really was a long way to fall. I had time for several photographs as he plunged towards the ground. The was a snap from the platform and then the whole tower whipped forwards. He touched the ground and then was pulled into the soft soil below the tower. A perfect jump.

You may have noticed a similarity between nanggol and bungee jumping. The first modern bungee jumps were made in 1979 from the 76 m Clifton Suspension Bridge in Bristol. The students, Kirke and Keeling of the Oxford University Dangerous Sports Club, came up with the idea after discussing the “vine jumping” ritual of Vanuatu. Organised commercial bungee jumping began with the New Zealander, Hackett, who made his first jump from Auckland’s Greenhithe Bridge in 1986. Since then, bungee jumping has become a world-wide, lucrative business. The cultural appropriation has never been recognised or compensated for. In 1995, the people of Pentecost Island, with the support of Vanuatu’s attorney-general declared that they would endeavour to get royalties from bungee jumping enterprises because they viewed the tradition as stolen. I have no idea whether anything ever came of this.

With that we were done. The jumping had taken all afternoon. Everyone made their way back to the beach. The sun was starting to set as we headed back to the ship.

Hypnotic rhythms and deadly volcanoes

Another sea day and we have arrived at the Vanuatu island of Ambrym. The island is roughly triangular. 50 km wide. The centre of the land mass is dominated by a 12 km wide caldera containing two lava lakes. The caldera was formed around AD 50 by one of the largest volcanic explosions in recent geological history. Several times a century, Ambrym volcano has destructive eruptions. It is one of the most active volcanoes in the world. The island is also a particularly important bird conservation area. There are many rare, special and endemic bird species here. This all sounded extremely exciting and interesting. As we approached, I was scanning the volcanic cone for signs of smoke or other activity.

We went ashore to watch the locals perform a dance.

The Rom Dance of Ambrym is a sacred, ancient ceremony performed by men in elaborate banana-leaf costumes. The tall, conical masks represent ancestral spirits. They become the ancestors and must be burned afterwards because they contain the powerful spirits of the dead. Ambrym is considered to be the black magic epicentre of Vanuatu. This dance is a ritual that tells stories of good versus evil and is traditionally connected to yam harvests and initiation rites, such as circumcision. The ceremony honours ancestors and wards off evil spirits. The dancers are completely covered in banana leaves and wear brightly painted masks. It is a pulsating, hypnotic dance using highly repetitive drum rhythms.

Off to one side were a group of women dancers. The Rom dance is men only. It is fierce and war like. However, since we were also being welcomed to the village, the women were dancing their own thing underneath a large tree.

Tamtam drums are massive wooden slit drums. Made from a hollowed-out hardwood tree trunk with sealed ends and a longitudinal slit. They are struck with a short, solid drumstick. Technically, these are not drums because they lack a membrane stretched across the top. They are idiophones, where the entire instrument vibrates. On most islands of Vanuatu, the drum has little to no decoration. It is played horizontally on the ground. On Ambrym the drums are set vertically into the ground. They are decorated with faces representing ancestral figures. The distinctive shape of these large eyed figures has become iconic of Vanuatu as a whole and is represented on their banknotes.

The ceremony is considered a profound and rare experience, often regarded as one of the most significant traditional performances in Melanesia. Not quite volcanoes and rare birds but sometimes you just need to make the best of what is available.

We were arranged around the edge of a performance area where we sat on rough benches. It took the best part of an hour for everyone to be ferried ashore and helped up the short walk to the arena. Eventually, we were all ready and then the drums started. I quite liked the monotonous rhythm of the drums. The dancers very slowly danced their way into the arena. Village chiefs, wearing almost nothing, formed a group in the centre. Costumed and masked dancers surrounded them. Everybody was swaying to the incessant beat of the drums and stomping their feet. The ground vibrated with the rhythms.

The dance went on for a long time. It went through several phases but I have no idea of the meaning of each section. Eventually, the dance finished and we were invited to photograph the dancers and the chiefs. However, we were given a strict warning to avoid touching the dancers, the masks, the costumes or the drums. In fact, we were not even to get too close to them. The dance had awakened ancient spirits that were now in the costumes and masks. Extremely dangerous. As soon as the photographs were finished the dancers slipped away. Even before we had walked back down to the beach, the dancers were busy burning the costumes, masks and everything. The big drums are not burnt but they are treated with respect and nobody touches them until the next dance.

On the beach was a small band playing cheerful music. A few vendors were selling local craft items. Fruit and coconuts were being handed out for refreshments. We ate some pomelo. A large grapefruit like citrus fruit. Extremely sweet, juicy and with a fantastic taste. We see them in the UK supermarkets occasionally. Unfortunately, by the time they have arrived in Todmorden, they are a dried up, tasteless, sad reflection of the real thing.  

We headed back to the ship for lunch. Diane had found two small children that she wanted to adopt. Unfortunately, they were not allowed onto the zodiac because they did not have lifejackets.

After lunch, I heard on the radio that three tourists had tragically died on an Indonesian volcano when it erupted. They were part of a group that, ignoring local advice, were hiking in a restricted area close to the crater rim. The eruption was expected. It had been building for days. The locals were anticipating that it would be a big one and it was. Many people were rescued from around the volcano. It seems likely that others are missing. They sneak into an area that has been closed because it is dangerous. They do not tell anyone where they are going with their drones and cameras. It can be difficult to account for them later.

Fascinating fish, intriguing coral and hidden venom

Next day was the end of another leg. We hauled in at Lautoka, Fiji’s second largest city. The morning was spent getting one set of passengers off the ship. In the afternoon, a different set of passengers was embarked. Meanwhile, those of us that were continuing the voyage, the in transit passengers, were sent off on a trip to get us out of the way. It was not a great trip. We have done some coach trips that set the bar low and this one was right down there. We were driven to a marina. Given some fruit. Shown how to open a coconut. Driven to a shop and finally brought back to the ship. This was stretched over nearly four hours. The shop, a multi-floor upmarket emporium, was aimed exclusively at tourists to the extent that prices were all in US dollars.

Now the ship was full of strangers again. We spent much of the afternoon doing safety drills, listening to safety briefings and generally being bombarded with information that we had already received twice before. Outside, big black stormy clouds were brewing. Rainy squalls were all around us.

Next morning we were intending a landing at another small Fijian village called Nabukeru. This time the weather was against us. For the most part, we have been remarkably lucky with the weather on this trip. Today it did not work out for Nabukeru. The swell and wind were just a bit too much. We repositioned to an alternative landing site on the north coast but this was deemed to be just as bad. A group of locals, meanwhile, had come out in their small boat to see what we were messing around at. They were bouncing around in their small white boat without any care for the sea state or wind. They shouted “Bula” to us in loud, cheerful voices. This is the Fijian greeting. Often delivered as an explosive shout with wide open arms. All to no avail though. We waved them goodbye and headed all the way back to our landing site of two days previously close to the village of Yasawairara. Here there was better shelter from the land and we could finally put the zodiacs out.

The rest of the day was just about hanging around the beach and the village. For Diane and I, it meant two more snorkelling trips. While many others were lying on the beach or buying souvenirs in the village, we were in the water.

The visibility had improved a little. This helped with the photography. I had found a setting to do with focusing. This helped as well. Unfortunately, I also managed to put the camera in a low-resolution jpeg mode. This did not help. Once you are in the water, it is a bit late to start messing with settings. It is difficult to see well enough for this, so I just tend to assume (hope) everything is set correctly and off we go. Since then I have been studying the manual some more. Partly to help get the right setup but also to find a way to lock everything so that I cannot inadvertently mess it all up when I jump I the water.

My ability to identify fish is still woefully inadequate. Like with bird identification, Google helps a lot. There are also some fish experts on the ship. One thing I have learned, is to not touch things underwater. There are many reasons for this. Much of the coral is quite fragile and also has sharp edges. Possibly worse than this however, are the wide variety of poisonous creatures. The Lined Surgeon fish looks very nice. Bright colours. Easy to spot. Very photogenic. But possesses sharp, venomous spines, or “scalpels,” located on both sides of its tail base for defence against predators.

There was a wide variety of fish on the reef. And a wide variety of corals. I know even less about corals than fish. Corals, somewhat surprisingly, are animals. Although they look like plants or rocks and are sessile (fixed in one spot), they are, in fact, animals. Individual corals have a stomach, mouth and tentacles used for capturing food and defending themselves. They also have a symbiotic relationship with algae. The algae live in the tissue of the polyps and provide oxygen and food (glucose, glycerol, amino acids) through photosynthesis. This process also gives the coral its vivid colours. Over thousands of years, the calcium carbonate skeletons of the coral polyps build up to form reefs. Some of which are enormous.

I saw several schools of yellowfin goatfish. During the day, they often form large, inactive schools for protection. This is great. They stay still so that you can photograph them.

Chevron butterflyfish are very pretty. They feed almost exclusively on the polyps and mucus of the corals.

Surgeonfish are generally herbivores that consume turf algae. They are often found grazing on coral and rocks.

Doublebar Goatfish have a big spot around their eye – making them look like they have big eyes.

A school of Indian Mackerel swept in. These are strange looking fish. They are a reasonable size (20 – 30 cm) and were swimming in a school of 30 or more. They were moving fast and my first impression was that they had plastic bags on their heads. On closer inspection, they were swimming with their mouths open.  These fish are ram feeders. They swim with their mouths wide open to strain plankton and macroplankton from the water using their gill rakers.

Lying on a patterned section of coral was a lizardfish. These are ambush predatory feeders.  Normally they camouflage themselves against the sea floor. This one apparently did not realise that on the regularly patterned coral, it stood out like a sore thumb.

Finally, there was a sabre squirrelfish. These are nocturnal and this particular one was hiding in a hole. I waited patiently for it to come out. Good job I did not reach in for it. They have small spines that secrete venom for protection. While not deadly to humans, their stings can be painful. Do not touch things underwater.

Cultural presentations, fish and the danger of being keel hauled

Lomaloma is a small village on Fijian island of Vanua Balavu. We arrived there just after lunch and got ferried ashore by zodiac. A tour of the village consisted of walking down the small main road to the post office. Then we looked at the church, the hospital and the school and came back for the cultural presentation. I often find these presentations a little tricky. This one began with sharing Kava. A few of the onlookers were singled out to sit cross-legged and drink out of the coconut cup. Kava is a mildly psychoactive local drink used as a welcoming ceremony. Next the children were pushed in front of us. Along with a begging bowl. The children were made to sing a song while the Americans donated money via the begging bowl. Diane and I headed back to the ship fairly soon after this and then I received a call.

I am in trouble. I am on the naughty step. I am standing outside the headmaster’s study. I have been summoned by Guest Services to the Hotel Manager’s office. The Hotel Manager is tall with white hair and is clearly a wizard. The assistant captain is also there. He is young, small and sports a prominent ginger beard. I don’t know his name. In my mind, he is Gloin Redbeard. Gandalf rather cryptically tells me this is not about yesterday’s incident. So why am I here? The incident has been reported and logged. Someone’s version has been logged. Gloin reads me the rules concerning zodiac operations and the importance of holding hands. I wholeheartedly agree while wondering if the crew member received a reminder to let go of guest’s arms. We all shake hands and I am allowed to leave. I still don’t know if the offence was that I arrived in the boat with someone still attached to my arm, or calling them a dollop, or both. But I am free. I have escaped keel hauling, flogging, walking the plank or being turned into a newt. Time for a celebratory drink.

Next day, we were moored off from the wonderfully named Yasawairara, another small Fijian island village. Yet again, we were all invited ashore for a walking tour and a cultural presentation. This time it went much better. Straight out of the zodiac, I met an island chief called Prince Philip. He shared with me a large cup of Kava. It made my tongue slightly numb and tingly. The walk around the village was slightly more interesting. There were some goats on a rock. We skipped the dancing part of the presentation and went snorkelling.  

The expedition team had set up two zodiacs. We could snorkel between them by following a reef wall. This was up to 10 m deep and included a wide range of different types of coral.

The water was often a lot deeper than we had experienced before. This was fun but made photography difficult. Visibility was not so good either. Photographing fish is not so straightforward. I am used to looking at a scene through a viewfinder. Now I need to watch a small screen on the back of a camera, through goggles that are typically a bit misted up. Fish are twitchy, nervous things that vanish at the slightest movement. I end up stalking them. Hanging motionless in the water in the hope that they will ignore me and get on with their fishy lives.

I am also having to learn how to use a new camera. Like most cameras, this has a myriad of complex settings. It does not seem very practical to start messing with the camera controls in the water. I spend some time reading the manual. Then try fiddling with a few settings. Jump into the water and see what happens. Fortunately, we have quite a few more opportunities for snorkelling on this trip. Hopefully, this will be enough for me to get the hang of it.

Campbell Island

Campbell Island has the distinction of being the closest land to the antipodal point of the UK. The antipode of any location on the planet is the point on the globes surface diametrically opposite to it. Points that are antipodal to each other are situated such that a straight line connecting the two would pass through Earth’s centre. In other words, we are as far away from home as it is possible to get.

Far from home and in trouble. Our cabin came up on the naughty list today, so we had to go and clean our boots. Yesterday there was a general discussion on biosecurity. The issue, the problem, is cross contamination by non-native species to the sub-Antarctic islands. Back in the day it was common to introduce new species in the hope of improving things. Pigs to help castaways, plants that might grow better, that sort of thing. There was also truly little control over the accidental introduction of foreign organisms. Rats came ashore off ships. Cats were brought to control the rats. Food stuffs contained seeds which got into the local environment and so on. Unfortunately, some of these foreigners became invasive and changed the ecological balance of a whole island. Rodents could wipe out entire bird species. The avians had never dealt with mammalian predators before and were devoid of defences. Similarly, some plant species could end up displacing local, more specialised varieties. Rabbits could munch particular and rare types of vegetation into extinction. These are all valid and real concerns. The basic approach, to ensure that no cross-contamination occurs is valid. However, there is this pendulum thing again and I do wonder if some people go a bit overboard. The end of the talk explained how we could use an opened paper clip to pick the grains of sand out from the label on our boots. We were also told about a spider. This had been spotted in a corridor. It was now safely caught, identified, boxed and packed into a freezer for return to New Zealand.

Biosecurity requires that we cannot go to the toilet when we go ashore.  Because a shore trip can last three or four hours this means getting yourself into a state of dehydration before you leave the ship. Half rations on the coffee at breakfast and no orange juice. Today we went for a walk up a hill. A little over 7 km up a steady slope and then back again. The weather was wet and windy. Gusting 30 knots near the top. This would have been a steady morning stroll with a flask of tea and some biscuits to have at the summit. But no food allowed. At all. Nothing. No tea. You can take some water but if you drink it then your bladder will have to suffer the consequences until you get back to the ship. It was quite a nice walk and I mostly enjoyed it. We passed several nesting albatrosses and there were some interesting views when the clouds briefly lifted. Diane found it very challenging. You are not allowed to sit down. Not even any kneeling. A few breaks, being properly hydrated and some chocolate would have made all the difference. There was a bench at the top where we had a brief respite. The wind picked up some more and the guides appeared to get into a bit of a panic. They started clucking a lot. We all had to group together. We should stop and squat down (without sitting or kneeling) if there was a strong gust. There was quite a lot of shouting, unnecessary organising and general confusion. Fortunately, as we dropped down the hillside, the wind dropped and things calmed down a bit. There was an incident with someone trying to take a selfie with an albatross on a nest and that did, quite rightly, end in a bit of a ticking off.

Getting back to the ship was a big relief in many ways.

Enderby Island

This morning the expedition team announced and posted their first naughty list. The night before, they had been round the lockers in the mud room checking everybody’s muck boots. If they were not clean enough, you were put on the naughty list. Anyone on this wall of shame needed to go down to the mud room and scrub their boots before breakfast. Fortunately, Diane and I escaped the dawn punishment and we could have a peaceful breakfast.

Enderby Island is the most northerly of the Auckland archipelago. The island’s northernmost point is Derry Castle Reef, named after the ship which foundered there in 1887. The sole passenger and 7 of the 23 crew made it ashore at Sandy Bay. They found a castaway depot but it had been looted. After 92 days they discovered an axe head in the sand and were able to build a boat from the wreckage. With this they could reach a second depot at Port Ross. Here they survived for a couple more months before finally getting rescued.

They may have dined, at least some of the time, on rabbit. The animals had been introduced to the island 20 years earlier specifically for this purpose. It was a common practise. Elsewhere, pigs, sheep and even cattle had been left on islands for the benefit of shipwrecked sailor. The Enderby rabbits were there for 130 years by which time they could be classified as a distinct species. The rabbits were eradicated from the island in the early 1990s. A few were rescued and the breed still survives in captivity.

We also went ashore at Sandy Bay. There are a few researchers huts here and also quite a lot of sea lions. The males can be a little territorial and not so welcoming to tourists. We didn’t have any trouble but there was an interesting stand-off with one of the expedition team when another group came ashore. Elsewhere there were groups of female sea lions lying around. Also, young pups playing with each other. Like most pups, these can be quite fun to watch.

We tip-toed round the various groups of sea lions and then could follow a walkway up the hillside a short way. This gave us a nice view and also took us past a few nesting albatrosses. These were Royal Albatrosses. Big birds with a wingspan of over 3 m.

Coming back down, we needed to circumvent another large sea lion male which had set up on the path. “Don’t stop, don’t take photographs and avoid eye contact” we were instructed. Some of the expedition crew get quite domineering and like to order the rest of us around like we were school children. Occasionally this is irritating but mostly I find it faintly amusing. I ended up reflecting on the notion that for well over 200 years it had been perfectly acceptable to club to death anything that looked like a seal. Now, we were being told to not even look at them. Behavioural pendulums swinging between extremes.

Back on the beach we spotted a yellow eyed penguin. These are endangered and quite rare. I took a photograph. It is not a very good photograph but I do at least have a picture of a yellow-eyed penguin.  

Snares Island

First day on a new ship is often all about finding things. We had never been on this vessel before or with this company. We knew nothing about how things were done or where they were done. The night before we had found our cabin, always a good start. Also found the restaurant so today we knew where to go for breakfast. There was a man there making omelettes. Not quite a masala omelette but pretty good and with a few chilli flakes on top I felt off to a good start. Coffee, yoghurt, fruit, toast. Grilled tomatoes and hash browns to go with the omelettes. We were going to survive. At least until lunchtime.

We were issued with muck boots. Big, warm, waterproof neoprene boots for going ashore. These are kept in a locker room on deck 3 which is called the mud room. I am not sure why. Our life jackets to use in the Zodiacs are also kept there. I thought that was going to be about our lot for the day’s excitement. On the itinerary, it was designated a sea day. Instead, mid-afternoon, we arrived at Snares Island. I thought this was a much better idea that bobbing around in the ocean. As we approached, there were many birds circling the ship. In particular, some albatrosses. I spent a while trying to photograph them. They are large but move fast. Also, the ship is moving. If you concentrate on the view finder too much you are liable to lose your balance and fall over.

There are about eighty passengers on the ship. Not very many but even so, if everyone is invited to the mud room at the same time to don boots and lifejackets, it gets a bit chaotic. Aurora could take some notes from the other expedition ships we have been on. We eventually got our boots and life jackets on but then we did not know where to go. First, we were queuing on one side of the ship, then the other, then we were waiting, then it was cancelled and ten minutes later it was back on again. We kept smiling and hoped the crew’s organisational abilities would improve once they had got over the teething problems.

The sea state was marginal. It was not particularly windy but there was a good swell running. Getting in and out of the zodiacs requires careful timing. They rise up and down well over a metre compared to the ship. The trick is to wait until the RHIB is on the top of the swell and then step purposefully across the gap. It is not as difficult as it sounds. For me the bigger problem was all the crew members grabbing at my arms and shouting advice. Somehow, we all manged to get into the boats and set off for a look round.

The smaller zodiacs could get into the lee of some islands and small inlets. So, once we were away from the Douglas Mawson, everything seemed to settle down a bit and we could get on with looking at the flora and fauna. The Snares Islands are a group of uninhabited islands lying about 200 km south of New Zealand. They are significant as a bird breeding area and have several endemic species, notably the Snares Penguin and the Snares Tomtit. The islands are heavily protected and generally it is not allowed to land on them. Having a look round in a small boat is fine.

Our trip began with a cave. This was fun and unexpected. It also brought us to a very calm little cove which was teeming with wildlife. We saw plenty of the yellow crested Snares Penguins. We also saw a tomtit which I failed to photograph. However, I was luckier with a Snares Snipe. There were quite a few fur seals lying around and a bewildering variety of sea birds. We came across a great mass of birds floating together in the sea. I can only assume that there was something plentiful and good to eat here.

We were out in the boat for well over an hour. There was far less chaos about getting back on board and then it was dinner time. In summary, a good start to the voyage.

Leaving Dunedin

Monday morning. We were ready to set sail but the ship was not ready for us. Our ship, the Douglas Mawson, had docked early in the morning and disembarked her passengers. However, there were many things to do, like cleaning the cabins, before we could be allowed on board. The company that owns the ship, Aurora, put in place a program of activities for the day to keep us distracted. This began with telling us to go away and come back to the hotel at lunchtime.

We wandered down to the Chinese Gardens. For a modest fee you can wander around this small, tranquil garden. It backs onto the railway track and is surrounded by city buildings. High walls keep most of this urban pressure out and a lovely pond area draws your attention inward. Were I stuck in Dunedin again, I don’t think I would go out of my way to visit these gardens but we had a couple of hours to kill so it was fine.

Back at the hotel we joined a group for an hour’s walking tour. This was all about the street art. Dunedin has a bit of a reputation for painted walls. There is some graffiti but most of the paintings have been commissioned by the city. Some of the pieces, up to a decade old, are getting a bit tatty around the edges now. Our guide was very enthusiastic about the plethora of murals we were shown. I didn’t share his engagement but it did pass another hour.

Next up was a bus ride. We all piled into a coach and were driven around the outskirts of Dunedin. Eventually we rocked up at the ineffably famous Baldwin Street. This road is officially recognized by Guinness World Records as the world’s steepest residential street. 19°, 35% or 1:2.78 depending on how you like to measure these things. It is 350 m long and, apart from being steep, is very ordinary. I declined the invitation to walk to one end of it. Instead, we stayed on the coach. As did many other people. We reflected that we had paid a lot of money for the Antarctic trip of a lifetime and were being shown a steep road.

Then came the Dunedin Botanic Garden. This at least gave us the chance to use a toilet. Baldwin Street may be famous but it is not sufficiently in the limelight as to have public toilets yet. At the botanic gardens, the toilets were broken, apart from one. Queuing passed some more time and then we had a comfortable stroll around the gardens. We found a winter garden, a heated Edwardian glass house, a rose garden and a herb garden. Eventually we found ourselves sitting by a duck pond seriously wondering if we should buy some duck food. Instead, we took a slow walk back to the coach and I ended up taking photographs of flowers, again.  

The coach took us to a look-out point where a bust of Admiral Bird stares vacantly southward. From here we could see our ship. It was small and distant. There was a bit more driving around to show us something or other. I managed to doze through this part. Then we were finally taken to the ship. We had to queue outside to have our photograph taken. Then came passport control followed by registration. Finally, we were welcomed on board with a small sandwich and a glass of fruit juice.

Less than an hour later, we cast off. Dunedin is at the end of a long bay. It takes an hour or so to reach the entrance of the bay and open water. On the way, we did our obligatory emergency drills. I saw a cormorant on a sign post. We waved at some girls doing some rowing. I waved at a guy on a tanker as we passed the start of the deep-water channel but he remained enigmatic. The sun began to set. The pilot disembarked. An event always worth watching. We passed out of the sheltered bay and turned south towards Antarctica.