attending

we leave the pub. room elevators this way, the fellow at the door says.

we exit the elevator. breakfast to your right, murmurs the guy at the lobby.

i balance my bowl and my plate. let me help you with the bowl, ma'am, the waiter says, and suits his action to his words.

where's the trash bin? i ask the concierge. let me take it for you, he replies, and my trash disappears.

there is being courteous and helpful, and there is quietly and smoothly anticipating my needs which is a whole different level of hospitality. 和平饭店 gets the gold amidst a host of great service contenders this trip.

ye olde jazz band

a misnomer if there was one. they play 70s oldies shanghai classics hokkien songs and when the saints come marching in. just not jazz. but i have a roaring good time nevertheless.

we should do this more often, i tell HOM. live music has a specialness that youtube doesn't.

yummo

special lunch treat in that elevated restaurant* with friends celebrating their wedding anniversary so we get the love treatment and rose petals. the food is gorgeously umami and (plebe that i am) i enjoy it tremendously and forget to enjoy the view.

*at the top of the shanghai tower

duoyun

like a magical enclave in the sky. the book culture looks alive and well and it almost feels like a travesty to look at the non-book distractants. dad would have loved a visit here. i buy my first paper book in years, partly because it calls out to me (shanghai! women!) and partly because dad would have bought a book or two as well.

thoughts on travel-mates

very tiring types:

• the one who must cover every possible location and tick it off his list
• the one who must take twenty photos in various poses at every possible spot

my kinda folks:

• the one who needs the loo at every stop and in between too (me)
• the organized punctual ones with no actual agenda of their own (people i like)
• the optimizer who gets the best deals and gives the best suggestions (that's HOM)

the soul-suckers:

• the one who gripes at everything and trusts no one in a foreign land
• the sucker who buys every tale and the produce attached as well
• the one who talks non-stop (arghhhhh)
• the one who listens and hears nothing and then asks what? when? what?

as you can see, i am indulging in a bit of therapeutic ventilation.

le stash

 

i guess i am committed to longer hair now. *gives a delicious little shiver*

fairmont peace hotel

there was the e&o, and there is the 和平饭店.

same modernized vintage esthetic superbly delivered. a tad less real estate than the e&o, possibly due to more exorbitant prices. but on the bund! at the cusp of walking street! with his-and-hers sinks! separate closet space! multiple charging points!

it wasn't on the bucket list before but it's there now.

full disclosure: there's no laundry room but there's a gym.

qipao tailor (again)

my dream is to have a qipao made in shanghai, my friend says. let me bring you to my tailor then, i tell her. always glad to have an excuse to visit!

give me a couple more years, i tell the tailor. i will be getting another one tailored. the maroon silk, i think. with three quarter sleeves. although to be honest there is one tonight in flowery cotton that whispers my name.

goin' places

huangshan north to shanghai hongqiao, business class.

there are many worse ways to travel. whoo hoo!

huangshan, done!

not being the sporty adventurer type, this counts as a major achievement. although one confesses that part of that is due to being hauled up many of the steps under duress the enticement of a hot shower and the promise of ice cream.

for the record there is no good ice cream up there.

the perfect hotel room

must-haves for this middle-aged traveler:

• firm mattress soft pillows
• bedside charging potential for every occupant
• powerful hot water in the shower
• and hair conditioner, not just shampoo
• a table to sit at
• space to stretch into, and
• a minimalist decorating philosophy

also, the ideal hotel (not the room) needs self-service detergent-ready washer and separate dryer. and a gym. 

table for two

simple food. good company. with promise of a nap later.

beihai hotel

much of the magic of yupinglou including modern minimalist chinoiserie and a bathroom with every convenience. 

PLUS (most appreciated, this) a laundry room with (mark you this) two shoe drying cabinets.

yessss.

huangshan foosh

owing to pitch nite darkness and a treacherously unexpected step i take a flying leap onto all fours.

the good news is, despite an OSTA in extreme negative territory, there is no fragility fracture.

the other good news is that my trusty phone escapes unscathed. 

yupinglou hotel

great location a short climb from the cable car station magnificent view with promise of sunset instant hot water on tap and all the mod cons in the room including a nice tête-à-tête set-up. so call me shallow but this takes its place amongst my all-time most impressive hotels.

anhui!

material change from XJ! we see green vegetables in abundance there is easy access to the loos and they actually enforce no smoking indoors. plus TP is provided! the times they are a'gettin' better.

hungree

  dinner and dessert. delivered to your room. 

nearly orgasmic.

chain hotel big city

back in possibly my favorite city in the east. in a nice holiday inn express. 

where the girl at the hotel reception is confidently reassuring and delightfully helpful. and no smoking means just that. and the washer comes pre-loaded with detergent. and the dryer lint catcher is lint-less. and the meituan options are (possibly) legion.

oh shanghai, how i have missed you!

onward bound

camping out in the airport lounge waiting for the next leg and being thankful for HOM's frivolous foresight in planning a convalescent second half to the vacation.

at last

final dinner in urumqi, sans logistic imperatives sans innumerable photo takes sans time keeping sans stress.

thank you for organizing! everyone tells HOM. thanks for everything!

we need to start planning the next trip, i hear someone say, all proactive-like. yikes.

general tso's chicken

what i learn today from the cotton tour is that the guy behind the dish was a real person and he was a military hero who won back xinjiang's western borders!

imagine proving your great prowess and being rewarded as a foreign fast food item! if you ask me, colonel sanders had the better deal.

thoughts on xinjiang

• the VIP tour bus has in-seat lumbar massage and a fast charging pod that works 
• AAAAA attractions live up to their classification. the toilets there are a sight better than the hoi polloi variety. TP provided!
• the local milk popsicles you find at pit stop stands are really to-die-for
• amazing how they get 4G and 5G coverage at the most remote locations high up deep in and everywhere in between. what did people do before data?
• xinjiang is enormous. its size expands your spirit and makes you realize how small you are
• the smoke, as with pretty much everywhere else in china, seeps into your bones thru your nose

last stop

lovely view* that HOM hauls me up hundreds of steps to enjoy. 

quads weeping but heart sang gloriously for a bit.

and THAT'S IT!

*tianshan tianchi

currency

the most precious breakfast commodity, it appears, is the chicken egg. yes that humbly ubiquitous oval-spherical long-time staple that we don't even think twice about. at xinjiang hotels you need to produce an issued-by-person coupon attached to a warm body before you can access one unit per human.

this must be the (almost) unbelievable thing i learn before breakfast on this trip.

longest day into night yet

the torment finally ends at 11:30 PM when we arrive at the hotel. i will need a vacation to recover from this one.

in other news, the views are spectacular.

lake kanas

unwittingly decanted into a human sardine can situation at the AAAAA tourist attraction so the only sensible thing to do is to decline to add to the overcrowding and have a cuppa.

motivation-challenged

here we are, HOM and i, shooting the breeze whilst our travel mates hike up to 280-odd steps to the scenic spot and back.

anthem

today we shlepp to the altay peak to ooh at the boundaries between the 4 nations. the views are even more stunning than over the last few days and the sun keeps up a sizzling presence.

shortest day yet

the bus decants us into the hotel at 6:30 PM. there is a collective gasp of relief from all the women in the group. laundry finally gets done. the hair gets washed. and we are in time for a late dinner instead of supper!

the guide promises us payback tomorrow. 

duku highway

if you ever think of adding a highway to your to-do list this might be a candidate. you'll get expanses of jaw-dropping scenery interspersed with a nerve-wracking drive along hairpin bends. throw in a supremely confident driver in a poorly suspended vehicle and you also get hair-raising. altogether memorable.

nalati grasslands

much hyped and justifiably breathtakingly gorgeous. but just a little bit greener in the photos and just a little bit better as a concept than in reality, owing to the blazing sun and abundance of dung of the bovine dromedary and equine variety.

another long day into night

during which we visit many spots take many photos have lots of pointless discussions and walk many steps.

today's lesson: in the profusion of numbers lies an explosion of frothy interactions opinions distractions and impediments. the ideal tour group size might be 4. me and HOM and possibly 2 carefully chosen like-minded fellahs. almost certainly not 18.

long day into night

the xinjiang tour is shaping up to be the modern day equivalent to cecil parkinson's pre-retirement tour for civil servants*. as in, the program is packed and inexorable the pace is relentless the cheer is distressingly hearty and the loo breaks are fewer than i need.

i don't need to do so much! i want to whimper. i want to stay in the hotel and rot! unfortunately we move to the next location hundreds of miles away tomorrow. and tomorrow's morrow. and the morrow after.

note to self: try not to be part of a group tour again.

*per Parkinson's Law (c. n. parkinson, 1957)

souvenir

fairly dinky flat hat that i persuade HOM to get.

now he can accessorize his entire wardrobe of blacks greys and navies.

loo break

plumbing new depths in bathroom design.

urumqi grand bazaar

great tourist trap. other words escape me.

en route

last mark sheet submitted. last presentation presented. document edited. various elders loved. instructions confirmed. (some) ideas hashed (a bit).

after being grounded in august, HOM and i are off again!

a midnight pastry shop called hwawoldang - lee onhwa (2026)

[spoiler alert] in the usual slice of life-interconnected short stories-with some fantasy thrown in genre that the modern asian writers do best. perhaps a little bit more fantasy than the japanese cat stories or the korean laundromat stories but as enjoyable, although it is taxing to read a series of short stories each of which (you realize quickly) ends in sudden demise. 

nice interlude to my streak of murder stories.

after the storm

two wonders here that i confess

my worth and my unworthiness

- getty & kendrick

in quietness of soul today in church, after the past fortnight of tornadoes with Ji J2 A and E. we are grateful for the time, as we are grateful for the rest. thanks be to God.

start CPR! (or not)

early this morning we meet a man lying at the shop front. 

hello! are you ok?

he doesn't respond. start CPR? call 995?

fortunately there is a nice pulse going and he is breathing peacefully so we leave him to sleep off his booze. HOM asks if we should call the ambulance nevertheless but i think the resource will be better spent on someone else.

they need to update the training algorithms. right now every simulation starts with hello! hello! are you ok? and proceeds immutably to call ambulance! get AED! start CPR! and doesn't leave space for the poor bro who just needs to lay down his poor head.

visit's end

we say goodbye to Ji J2 A and E. their last day is marked by fevers (A and E) vomiting (A and E) disrupted plans (all) much stress (all) with every indication of the same continuing in-flight.

all in all a lovely visit topped with pain. very grateful we have O to help keep the place looking and smelling civilized.

in other news, E the dog looks positively distressed and lethargic as well, possibly in sympathy.

bus ride

thoughts about my ride on the interstate express bus back to the homeland today:

• semi-modern architecture with typical rustic-level decor and down-on-the-heels feel
  
• 'orrible acoustics so the announcements come out like banshee wails
• and loos where you have to pay to enter and pay some more for access to paper

      BUT

• tech infrastructure to rival the best, with scanned ticketing and on-the-dot departure!

the journey is smooth and i arrive as promised. at the checkpoint, a nice elderly fellow takes me under his wings and shows me where to go to clear immigration and where to find the bus again after that. 

back to the grindstone tomorrow.

melaka

quickie trip to the old faithful location with my mum and with Ji J2 and their girls. inevitable meltdowns notwithstanding, we have a precious time catching up. very thankfully mum is a well super-ager A willfully and charmingly wraps us all around her little finger and E is sunny good natured and blissfully unaware that she should be acquiring stranger anxiety any day now.

time out

life hack: steal time for morning coffee* in the midst of grandparenting chaos.

*my first visit to margaret drive hawker center since they re-opened, and rather a disappointment it is too, in missing the energy and accessibility of the old one. they don't build 'em and cook 'em like they used to.

babysitting

we survive a night with A, HOM and i. from dinner to dessert to shower to story time to prayer to the next morning! even though we cycle thru llama llama red pajamas three times and there are heart-stopping moments in the middle of the night when she asks where mama is. and even though E the dog is distressed by the additional human in the bedroom. 

we feel accomplished (grandparently milestone achieved) humbled (she doesn't mind us!) delighted (nothing beats that trusting little hand in yours) and exhausted. 

with thanks to: cold storage roast chicken, the gelato joint in sunset way, last minute pdf download of llama llama red pajamas, and a random hair clip that allows her to twin with my updo.

baby's day out

A and E visit.

A prefers to be carried. E needs to be carried.

my upper body is getting a workout.

so is my back.

ouchhh.

li'l fashionista

 

A's shoes are giving mine a run for their money.

hot chocolate on thursday - michiko aoyama (2026)

delightfully gentle sweetly unexpected and wound through with rainbow skeins of connectivity that surprise you to the last.

michiko aoyama is getting better and better at this.

and after you finish the book you find yourself thinking thru the interconnections and enjoying them again, which is the mark of a really good story.

managing expectations 2

J2 to A: what will you do in singapore?

A: eat gorgonzola! (with interpretation from J2)

without interpretation, she could be saying, take a bus!

she's home!

the geriatric volvo, i mean. from the gearbox overhaul.

HOM and i survive a sweltering week on public transport by limiting our excursions. we welcome back our independence with much heartfelt relief and many overdue errands. 

time was when we zipped around town on buses without missing a beat. 

managing expectations

A and E visit us soon.

J2 asks A: where are you going?

A: singapore!

J2: what will you do there?

A: take a bus!

J2: and what else?

A: take a bus!

really, if that is all she wants to do, we can stop agonizing over when the volvo is coming home, i tell HOM.

sunday

time was when the weekly activities reached gasp-worthy levels over the weekend and we collapsed into bed on sunday nights in mindless relief tinged with a little gnawing fear of some nameless unfinished business.

HOM and i reflect today that we are grateful for almost complete shutdown once church is done. blinds drawn a/c on and bed covers down. interrupted only by the need to pee and poop E the dog.

grateful.

the convenience store woman - sayaka murata (2016)

highly rated and unfinishable. perhaps because i come to this right after the happy healing hippo of hinode park and find myself slowly being sucked into the stoically impassive thoughts of a neurodivergent woman trying to mask on a daily basis.

i abandon this just as it appears the tension is going to build up some more. because one should not read in order to get exhausted.

the blurb says haunting, dark, and often hilarious. bah.

 

in the shadow of agatha christie

omnibus of crime fiction by female writers from 1850 to 1917. when one is reduced to this you can tell one is a little bit stir crazy and desperate. 

the short stories themselves are surprisingly palatable although they lack the plot lines and build-up of bodies and clues i am used to after half a life-time's diet of actual agatha christie garnished with j.d. robb. the convoluted sentences are correctly fashionable unexpectedly comprehensible and a welcome change from the short fragments favored by ai-generated prose. the editing's a bit shoddy though which is a pity.

excuse me while i return to actual agatha christie.

waiting for august to end

muggy swelteringness

and 

pervasive stickiness

'nuff said.

new favorite hangout

... the car mechanic's!

as of last count we must qualify for preferred customer status of the revolving door variety. the old volvo has a new engine mount new radiator belt new fan yada yada and will soon have an overhauled gear box. 

we've come a long way, this car and us. and it is practically a new car again too.

national bird

spotted at alexandra village. one of an entire tribe.

us chinese souls look at the free ranging birds and wonder why we cannot eat some of them.

the rainfall market - you yeong-gwang (2024)

dystopian premise rendered in child-friendly prose and just vaguely reminiscent of enid blyton's magic faraway tree which nevertheless succeeds in warming the cockles of the reader's heart. i suspect it is the kitten motif.

tech help

today HOM and i are haunted by an old chinese melody that we both recognize and that we both cannot identify and that shazam gives up at as well. but the google app allows me to hum the melody and ta-dah! the song is 母亲你在何方. how we ever did things before the modern age i do not know. 

good evening

red sky at night, shepherd's delight

looks like the portents are for another hottt day tomorrow.

at least it's pretty.

woman in a hat

starting my most ambitious project yet and breaking new ground with silk thread on a ginormous piece of aida. for which pre-printed and pre-gridded are pretty much non-negotiables these days.

resurrected

nine months later the case is finally settled and the stop work order is lifted and we are looking to renewed efforts in the new week.

HOM and i are amazed humbled and grateful for the manifold mercies that lead to this. at the same time unfortunately the old stresses of hustling the various players also self-resurrect. 

but if God can lead us thru the one surely he can lead us thru the other. exodus 14:14, isaiah 43:2, psalm 31:15. all OT verses. there is a pattern here.

the murder room - michael capuzzo (2010)

the story of how the vidocq society comes about interwoven with the key cold cases they crack over the years and run through with the lives of the main players.

the story takes a bit of time to come together possibly due to writing style. the cases are sometimes riveting and sometimes a bit befuddling. the lives are interesting enough but unavoidably unidimensional.

it all becomes a trifle ponderous and i am relieved to speed read to the end and be done with it. what i need is incisive prose and an unbeatable plot. that, or lyrical prose and homey story. i feel like i am thinking bonhoeffer or a modern asian writer.

faith of our fathers

faith of our fathers, living still
in spite of dungeon, fire and sword

the speaker chooses this for the response today following a sermon on the fifth commandment. with all respect and even though i am fond of its soaring melodies it is a rather odd choice. a congregation of first and second generation believers mixes poorly with a song of catholic martyrs indeed.

alice and gerald - ron franscell (2019)

yikes.

woman kills her third husband marries her fourth who kills his second wife and his adopted sons then woman and man live happily for almost 40 years after that. oh oh maybe woman kills second husband too.

most ghoulishly unpleasant story of the couple that got away.

yikes.

another goodbye massage

this time by a human, for ten times what i pay the machine.

and what a massage! she hits the pain points unerringly drives me to the edge of tears and pulls me back into a looser more limber state. we cut to the chase when i tell her just neck shoulders and back; you can forget the arms and the legs, and i don't want oil. the bonus is she doesn't make small talk either.

i feel almost ready to return to civilization and to work.

at home - bill bryson (2010)

ramblingly wide-ranging history of modern society as it develops from the medieval to the modern and my one take-home point is that europe (and especially england) of the years up to the present were dark indeed. of especial horror (and most difficult to read) is the chapter on toilet practices. you can practically smell and feel the stuff.

vintage bryson, pretty much.

little commentator

J2 sends us a recording of little A describing the world cup game.

他提ball ; 他跌倒； 他头痛；他坐下来。with entirely unrecognizable prosody almost unrecognizable tonality but (you gotta admit) much sharp observation.

we are torn between grandparent-ly delight and much generational horror.

jb is gentrifying. random spots are ig-worthy and you can see the care with design. call me shallow, but i rather like it. less grit more shine and certainly cleaner. now they just need to diversify away from f&b and retail pharmacies.

preferred poison

HOM goes for his massage.

i wander the mall.

and find my favorite type of massage.

satisfying and without human contact. the way i like it.

breakfast

pretty neat dimsum handiwork

in air conditioned comfort

mostly local clientele

nicee

lounge rat

the air side lounge is where my pretensions to fraternity and equality end and i unabashedly accept with gratitude the place to sit the access to grub the free wifi and the general air of shabby gentility. 

whatever happened to the shiny eyed socialist democrat?

quickie trippie is over

flying home today but feeling as glad as when we fly home after a longer time out. same anticipation same loose schedule same delicious inactivity. same disrupted feeling same vague guilt and same malaise looking for fruitful action. 

3 days is the new fortnight.

in other news, i am glad i attended this high school reunion. grateful again for the shiny friendlinesses and unexpectedly easy camaraderie and meeting up with people i have not seen in over 40 years.

the royale chulan

fantastic location with an impressive history complete with cast iron corinthian columns unfortunately tucked away on levels that no one usually visits. decent room decent breakfast decent gym temporarily unavailable spa but with two dinky public massage chairs. and ultimately marred by poor choices of interior decor which rob it of real polish and make the front entrance look a bit secondary. it's also too bad our expectations are contaminated by memories of that other impressively historic place.

date escape

we take a break from group activities* and scuttle off for a non-aromatic tea break

followed by an umami dinner.

oishi. i am grateful for HOM's willing conspiracy. 

*the group decides on a durian party which my olfactories have no way of surviving. to be followed by a late dinner which i will decidedly be half asleep at.