THIS WAS WRITTEN ON THE 18th OCT 2013, SO I AM NOT ACTUALLY SITTING NEXT TO MALLARD ANYMORE. BUT NONETHELESS IT IS A LITTLE BIT RELEVANT.
Hello everyone.
A Quilliam Brother here. Updating you eager readers, begrudged readers, or those stumbling here because they are so mind numbingly bored they are clicking on any link they see (
Here's one.
Here's another one.).
This week we each had a day off. These are our first day offs since our return after summer, some weeks ago. I am on my one right now. Sitting next to Mallard. In fact, here's what i can see.
I love
this place so much. So very much. The reasons are plentiful, but what overwhelms me and gets me a bit tearful is the fact that whoever made these marvellous elegant machines obviously gave a shit. And because of the shit that they gave, they will have been proud. It takes a lot of time, money and man power to build like this. The same goes for whoever was responsible for this museum. It is well thought out, generous, spacious, friendly and beautiful. And quality without being clinical. Safe without being nannyey. Informative without being patronising. A tough job for museums. You have room to tackle the subject in your own time and space, without anyone or anything telling you how you should tackle it.
Today is under a duvet. And it feels lovely. It makes a feeling of security, that it's ok to be in your own heed. It brings a muffled calm to everything. People probably aren't moving slower, talking quieter, but it certainly feels like they are.
The Teahouse has massive windows. This is great for watching the peoples, unless you are in the basement. The windows also let the weather in. And it is fascinating to see the change in atmosphere as the weather changes. We never imagined that what was going on outside would effect inside so much. It can be as simple a change as the sun going behind a cloud; chatty noise and movement will increase as perhaps people feel less restrained without the repressive glare of the sun. As the rains are a coming in, there comes a feeling of camping. That is, open but polite, excitable exchanges, as if not wanting to disturb your neighbours, but with a feeling of comradeship, brought not only by the community feeling of a campsite, but as if waiting out a storm together. Duvet days like today obliterate any sort of atmosphere. In a good way. Everyone is in their own space, and the place feels empty. Despite being full. Service is easy on duvet days, though we serve no less. Everyone knows what they are doing on duvet days.
I dreamt last night. It wasn't hard hitting stuff. There was snow, and with it a concern for our bees. But it was the first dream i've had in a while. It certainly made me feel more human. The three of us, though rested when we returned and reopened, have again worked ourselves into unhealthiness. The problem lies with the teahouse growing faster than we can keep up with. We simply cannot make enough scones. Which is fantastic news. Thank you all once again for your support. We have made some changes. We now open at 8 am Mon-Fri and 9am Saturday. Still staying open until 1am. We now do a slightly more substantial breakfast (still keeping our more more substantial Saturday Brunch menu) and start lunch at 11am not midday. We cannot reiterate enough how appreciative we are to our staff, who tackle anything that we (or you) throw at them. Though we have lost a few key members in the past weeks (what with it no longer being summer), those who have stayed on have more than compensated for our losses. And for that we adore them.
It's important for us to periodically rekindle our love for quality and craft. For that is what we do love. Without being reminded of such places as this museum and what it contains, you forget, as that's what humans do. It is worth being tired if what you are guaranteeing is something you can feel proud of. Admittedly, sometimes this quality is off, if we are overwhelmed, and with that comes embarrassment. But we strive, by gum we strive, to deliver good things. And any problems we learn from and try to improve upon. Until what we will have built will be as beautiful, wonderfully crafted and functional as the Mallard and her relatives. And then we will be as proud as Sir Nigel Gresley was. That's not yet. But it will be soon.
Here's Some China Blog!
Day 4.
To get you up to speed. Chaozhou is the city. 4.30am is the time.
After a brief self preen, i ventured out, strolling the 30 minutes to the bus station to catch a 6am o clock bus. It was fully booked, gosh darn it, so had to get the following bus at 8.30. The waiting room was cockroach ridden and full of phlegmy people. Also a man playing a treble heavy Kenny G-esque track on repeat on his phone. Which is enough to drive anyone to extreme discomfort. Out on the street next to the bus station entrance and steps was a cart vending noodles with boiled chicken balls.
As usual, this wasn't known until it appeared. There is usually only one thing on offer, so therefore no point in fretting over what you are about to eat. The decision has been made for you. As far as i could tell it was with caramelised garlic, some sort of greens, sesame oil, sugar and msg, of course. And lots of coriander. It agreed with me tremendously. The fella of the lady making the food was sitting with his chums. They invited me over and shared their flask of tea. It was the most astringent thing i have ever experienced. But strangely it didn't matter. It worked as a wake up, better than any coffee ever has done. It was delicious, and a flavour unique to me that can be recalled in a heart beat. Which serves as a way of recalling the entire memory of that time and place. Vision really is the weakest sense for aiding the recall of memories. I guess because your eyes are put through so much, but your other senses mostly have an easy time of it. So for a visually unstimulating situation, it stands to reason that the other more invigorated senses would jump into action.
The bus ride to Xiamen was on a bus with a steamy window. This was annoying. I simply cannot tell you what the scenery was like. So imagine something nice instead.
I didn't linger in Xiamen, instead heading straight to the ferry port in order to board a boat to Gulang Yu. Gulang Yu or Gulangyu is an island just a few hundred metres off Xiamen. It is bustley with Chinese tourists. It is a fabulous place.
After trying 3 sleeping places, a dormitory bed was located. Cheap, clean and lovely and in the most ideal setting, i booked 2 nights and went for a humongous wander. Aside from Matheran in Maharashtra India, this is the only vehicle free place i have visited (excluding centres of ye olde european cities). This alone would be enough to make it lovely, but it really is a marvellous place. Here are my notes, as written as the day went on.
FISH, GREAT SOUVENIRS, COBBLES, BANYAN TREES, WEDDING PHOTOS, TOUR GROUPS, WEIRD FRUIT, SQUID ON A STICK, MSG/MOLUSC OMELETTES, MILK TEA, OVERPRICED COFFEE, NICE BEACHES, STAMPBOOKS, GREAT GRAPHIC DESIGN, AMAZING COLONIAL BUILDINGS, MASSIVE AVIARY, SHODDY SAX PLAYER WHO LOOKED LIKE HE WANTED TO DIE, LUSH SQUARES, ESCAPEY OCTOPUS, MOIST, I MESSAGED PAT.
A few of them are self explanatory.
The wedding photos seem to be out of control in popularity. I asked a young couple what it was all about. They said it was just tradition, a romantic time together to get photographs done, and have a nice day before the actual day. They all were very young.
There was a LOT of fish on offer. Fish i had never seen before. They all just sat outside restaurants in bowls/tanks and you chose your fish to be eatened.
Note the feline.
I was worried that if i sat down in a restaurant i would accidentally sign up to eat a massive one of those in the middle bottom.
So mostly i ate from street vendors.
Above are the squids on sticks.
Stampbooks refer to why i was so blown away by the place, in general, as a tourist destination. The place is full of wonderfully designed shops. Each unique in their stock and identity. On top of that, each cafe/teahouse/takeaway shack oozes personality without being in your face 'quirky'. Tastefully, tastefully done. One thing these shops sell in common is the stampbook. Beautiful, quality booklets of 60-100 pages. Each page has a photo of a shop/caff, a brief description of it and its history and perhaps a little phrase of some sort. Then there is space to receive a stamp. Each establishment has a place to stamp your book. Not only does this mean nearly every single tourist buys one of these books, but it gives them a purpose whilst exploring the island. Making them visit every nook and cranny, collecting stamps, visiting shops and buying stuff as they go (be it souvenirs, food or whatever) and after it they have a real souvenir. Something that will remind them of the day. Something they will cherish. It is a brilliant bit of organisation amongst independent retailers, or tourist agencies.
One of the little outlets.
A cup of coffee is over £5 on the island. I have no idea why. It's 50p just across in Xiamen.
This is a £5 coffee house with fake St*rb*cks mugs.
Whilst i was sitting having a Tsingtao. Opposite, one of the fish sellers turned his back for a minute. The scarily intelligent octopus that was in a plastic bucket poked his head up, saw his opportunity and tried to leg it. It slithered wriggly down the lane. No one noticed, and i definitely wasn't going to tell the fish vendor. I was rooting for the cephalopod! Alas, as it was about to turn the corner to probable freedom, he was noticed. And was retrieved. Floppily dropped back into its bucket.
Above is the scene of the Great Octopus Escape 2012
Finally. Banyan trees. What amazing beasts they are. They emanate a feeling of wisdom and longevity. They know fine well that they will outlive you. They respect you for sure, for they know what humans are capable of. But they don't mind taking their time. Slowly taking over the world. One tendril at a time. More on Banyan trees later in the trip (totally worth the wait if you like Banyan trees).
Gulangyu is fab. Its a bonkers mix of 19th century colonial buildings from many european nations. In China. Fine fine villas and churches. All higgledy built, up and downy, on top and below, somehow making a coherent 'place'. European architecture now with a modern Chinese twist. The smells and sights, with the always singing sounds of the music school. Sandy beaches, hilly walks, a gargantuan aviary and so many nice foods. Oodles of personality rammed into a square mile. It was mint.
Here's some more pics of just wandering around. More Gulangyu happenings happen on the next day so there will be more pics when the next blog appears. So, see you next time for more THRILLING THINGS. xxx
This is a bald man with some stuff behind him.
Some ladies.
A Square with some stuff happening.
A couple.
ROCKS
Priceless.
Flora
Night Time
Mystery Fruit
Atmosphere
MSG. And noodles.
Goodbye x