Shanghai, China

My 22nd floor hotel room in Pudong overlooking the docks gave an excellent view of the constant procession of freight ships and barges moving slowly down the Huangpu River, just short of its junction with the mighty Yangtze.  When my Shanghai class finished yesterday I took the subway into the city, first taking a stroll down the Nanjing pedestrian mall that looks better every time I visit, then on to the Xintiandi / Tianzifang district.  Tianzifang is a maze of crowded tourist shops housed in a complex of old characterful buildings; Xintiandi is a gleaming modern suburb of upmarket apartments, international stores and restaurants.  Walking between the two I chanced upon the former house of the late Zhou Enlai, Mao’s Deputy in the 1950s, 60s and 70s.  Once part of the French Concession in the old colonial days, this area is now home to some of Shanghai’s more wealthy residents who live high up in the apartments or in the graceful houses dating from a bygone era set along the tree-lined streets.

I had dinner at the Xintiandi branch of Din Tai Fung.  While my vegetable and pork and shrimp dumplings were being rolled and steamed, the waitress gave me a copy of the Shanghai Daily to read.  The news wasn’t good – the death toll from the gas explosion at the Happy Sheep Hotpot Restaurant in Shanxi province has risen to 14 with 47 others seriously injured.  And elsewhere, the man who lifted the lid on China’s 2008 milk products contamination scandal has been found murdered; not, as was first feared, in a revenge attack for his having blown the whistle, but stabbed by his own wife fed up with being beaten up every time he came home drunk which, it seems, was often.  No doubt the news would have got brighter on the following pages, but my dumplings arrived.   

Longmen ancient village, Zhejiang, China

Longmen ancient village on the Fuchun River in Zhejiang province, about an hour south of the capital Hangzhou, is the ancestral home of the Sun family which proudly records a number of historical notables on its family trees and artwork displayed in the village’s buildings.  The big daddy of them all was Sun Quan (182 to 252 AD) who hailed from Longmen and was the founder of the Wu State during the Three Kingdom Period.  He was a hero of his time and widely respected for his honesty in handling state affairs.    

About 90% of the village’s 7,000 present day inhabitants have the surname Sun; they are the descendants of Sun Quan.  Many of them are elderly, and it seemed to me when I was there on Thursday that they lead contented lives with a strong sense of community. A large group of them were playing mahjong in a hall, while elsewhere small groups of men played cards, and on the village bridge older guys stood around and chatted.

A seemingly incongruous sight amongst the ancient buildings and simple lifestyles were piles of shiny new badminton racquets at the bottom of many chairs along the alleyways.  But my hosts explained that nearby is a large sports equipment factory that churns out racquets by the thousands that are then dispatched to the Longmen villagers for stringing.  I spoke to one woman who does this work; she said she could do 50 badminton racquets a day, but the payment she receives for each was a shockingly low amount (about the equivalent of 5 Australian cents for stringing one racquet)!

As we left the village to return to our car we passed some small shops that had racquets for sale.  After stringing, most go overseas for sale, but a few find their way into the shops of Longmen.  The low price was scarcely believable; not even one-fifth of the typical price of the same tennis racquet in an Australian sports store.  Had anyone told me that morning that I would be going to Longmen ancient village and would be leaving having bought two new tennis racquets I would have told them they were crazy.  But that’s exactly what happened.  That’s China for you – you never know what you’re going to see around the next corner.                 

Temple of Heaven Park, Beijing, China

The Temple of Heaven Park is my favourite place in Beijing, a peaceful refuge just a few kilometres south of the city centre.  The Park is enormous, spread over 300 hectares and containing forests of cyprus and juniper, and some of the most beautiful buildings in the whole of China.  Originally constructed in 1420, the Temple used to be a place where Ming and Qing dynasty emperors went to worship and pray for good rains and bumper harvests.  These days it’s one of Beijing’s most visited cultural and recreational sites.  Locals go there to stroll, exercise, play games and dance.  Tourists flock there to enjoy the peaceful ambience and admire the beautiful buildings, top billing of which goes to the exquisite “Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests”.  The Park has been listed on UNESCO’s world heritage register since 1998; amply deserved I think, unlike some of the more recent additions in other parts of the world.

Winter is knocking on Beijing’s door.  There have already been a few chilly blasts, with lumps of hardened snow on the ground in shady places.  But Monday was a little warmer, with a sunny blue sky and importantly, no wind.  Perfect for a walk in the Park.  But when the wind blows, it’s a different matter (Brrr!).       

Meanwhile, a few kilometres to the north, the 18th National Congress of the Communist Party of China was underway in the Great Hall of the People on the western perimeter of Tiananmen Square.  I took the subway there to check it out.  Security was tight; the normal entrances to the Square were blocked and the crowds were instead marshalled and frisked through a couple of small bottlenecks.  It took 20 minutes to get through, but the crush and wait were worth it.  The Square was looking its best, decorated with enormous flower arrangements, and with many large red Chinese flags billowing in the late afternoon breeze.  Not surprisingly, there was no chance of a peep inside the Great Hall of the People, much less the opportunity to nominate myself for a position on the Central Committee.

Travelling on the Beijing subway at peak hour is not something you would do twice if you could avoid it, so by 4pm I was already underground whizzing north back to my hotel before the crowds swarmed down the stairs and escalators to stretch the subway network to its limits.  It’s a fantastic modern system, and for the commuter it surely must be the world’s least expensive.  Beijing is an enormous city, but you can take a trip on the subway, no matter how far, for the princely sum of 2 RMB (about 30 Australian cents).

My hotel was in Haidian District near the Beihang University, around which are several cafes and restaurants serving excellent Chinese food.  Memorable dishes included the beef, mushroom and bamboo hotpot, the stir-fried pork and peppers, and the chilli fish garnished with shallots and Sichuan peppercorns.