hang zhou

I really should be sleeping and I know I'll pay for it dearly tomorrow. But something in me just refuses to go to bed; so I guess now is as good a time as any to resume writing about the Shanghai trip.

We made a weekend trip to Hang Zhou, reputed to be one of the most famous places on earth (from the Chinese idiom shang4 you3 tian1 tang2 xia4 you3 su1 hang2). So we took a 2-hour train ride from an amazingly intricate station. Why can't Singapore have nice public structures like that? Check out this intricate honeycomb of a roof it has ...

I was savouring the thought of some peaceful idyll after the hustle and bustle of Shanghai's busy city streets. It was not to be. Upon stepping off the train, we were mobbed by local tour agents like a pack of jackals. Sensing our indecision (we didn't really have plans, preferring to be spontaneous), they descended upon us trying to push all manner of tour packages upon us until we quickly and firmly retreated to the taxi stand and caught a cab to a randomly chosen jetty on the West Lake (Xi1 Hu2).

To cut a long story short, Hang Zhou was indeed quite beautiful. But it was totally and utterly ruined because of all the locals thronging the place, clogging up walkways and cluttering up the sparse buildings. Did I mention that locals are none to polite? It just became very stressful overall, and we retreated into the tourist enclave to find the most atas restaurant possible for some peace and quiet. At least price was a barrier we could hide behind; and so we found ourselves in a japanese pizza parlour eating tepanyaki and playing Boggle overlooking a locale that could easily be mistaken for Harvard Square or any other American town with boutique-lined streets.

Over Boggle, we observed that the Boggle set was probably older than any of us. A true family heirloom - we wondered just how many countries it had travelled to. And isn't it interesting how personal belongings acquire an added sense of value when they have travelled the world with you? Of course, this led to sibling rivalry.

Sister 1: I really like my Diesel shoes, even though they are so dirty. A kangaroo left a muddy pawprint on it. Did a kangaroo ever step on your frisbee?

Sister 2: No, but a cow stepped on it in Switzerland. And he went to Scotland with me as well.
Me: As the firstborn son I claim the boggle set.