LOGO

Hello Blogatronz,

     How is it all going? Gravy? Swimmingly? We hope so. 

                  Here is a little insight into the QB logo. It may be of some interest to those who like wanky drivel about something that should not be that drivel worthy. 

   So here it is. The offishul logo.

     

There are a few things to explain, i reckon. First of all Quilliam is a Manx name. Our parents are Manx. It derives from MacWilliam. Olde Scots for 'son of William'. Manx means you are from the Isle of Man. The Isle of Man is in the middle of the Irish Sea. It's very nice. Sometimes. There are castles, and stunning coast, ice cream, lovely beaches, quaint villages/towns, too few surnames, cats with no tails, BASKING SHARKS and other incredible marine life, expensive petrol, online casino HQs, cheap tax (hence the online casino HQs), beautiful walks and countryside in general, kippers, boats, knobs, yessirs and this, the manx flag.

     It is a triskelion, 'The Three Legs of Mann'.  

So we began.

Here you can see we have dragged the three legs, kicking and screaming, into the beginnings of a logo of some sort. Actually make that kicking and kicking. And kicking. 

Here there's some additional awful stuff happening. 

The bottom bit is meant to be a tea plant (Camellia Sinensis) top two leaves and a bud. 

The perfect pick for fine tea.

It is also meant to look like a q and a b. But it's so horrible. 

Again, truly terrible stuff.

And now we decided to try and incorporate a rubiks cube. Purely because we like rubiks cubes. 

Thankfully we threw that idea out.

This was a pivotal moment. This is when the logo turned circular. 

Many cafe chains do it. For some reason the circle is the cafe logo shape. St*rb*cks, n*ro, c*sta, c*ntral bean, etc etc. 

Anyhoo, from then on, we tried to make a cube into a circle -

Not Just Tea! Also awful logos with naff slogans!

There are those bloody leaves again. 

This one is curvaceous, and i like it. More in keeping with the Celtic triskelions (triskelia????). 

More bollocks. 

Until at last we arrived at this.

It is a lot harder to draw than it looks. There is compromise throughout. The spaces in between the shin bones (below the knee) are smaller that the shin bone itself, so making it into a circle is hard. So hard that it is impossible. So what you see is a very uncleverly manipulated circle that isnt infact a circle. And the text took ages. And deciding what went in the middle middle as standard took ages. The middle middle circle is open to meddle with though. We pop all sorts of stuff in there. 

Now lets get deep and meaningful. Why were we so hell bent on ramming three legs into a cube into a circle? 

First of all if you say QB it sounds kinda cubey. But that may have been a happy coincidence. 

There is the Quilliam/Manx connection with the legs, as discussed. 

There are three brothers who are doing this. The legs, i suppose, might, kind of, a little bit represent us. The Manx motto, to which the three legs relate or vicaversa, is 'whithersoever you throw it, it will stand'. A motto of strength and unity. Perfect for a sibling run business. Perhaps. Perhaps it could mean that if one of us is unable to cope, the other 2 will always be there to support them. Perhaps. 

And a cube has six sides, for sure. There are 6 members of the immediate Quilliam family. Us three, a sister, a mum and a dad. We wouldn't be here without the other 3, supporting and inspiring us. So, although not directly involved in the teahouse, they are there, and the teahouse would not be without them. So, there are 3 sides to the cube visible, but 6 in total. 

We also tried to make the thing look a little nice and floral. Perhaps like a Camellia Sinensis flower?????!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!OMG!!!!!!!???!?!?!?

Well that was disgustingly up its own arse. But it's nice to share. Isn't it?

Isn't it?

 LOOK I'M SORRY RIGHT?

NIGHT NIGHT x

PS, this was all done in Darjeeling, whilst sampling some of the teas we now ship in for your enjoyment. 

18th October (Not really). And Day 4 of CHINA.

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.

Young marrieds to be.

 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

Bwona Saira.

Hello everyone.

   We QB 3 have all just returned from a holiday. With our sister, her hubs and kids, our mum and dad and our girlfriends. It was to celebrate the senior Quilliams' anniversary of 30 years. It has been long anticipated (3 years). It was lovely, thank you for asking. One of us got engaged, even. Please raise your tea cup to him when you are next in (he's the one looking all happy, and has glasses). We went to San Gimignano, Lucca, Volterra and many others. God they know how to make an aesthetically pleasing hill top town in those parts. We swam a lot, and ate a lot. We took photos, and brought just enough tea bags to see us through. The pace of life was perfect. The scenery, magical. And as for the company, everyone became again their true selves. As opposed to an exhausted, irritable, preoccupied version of themselves. It was interesting seeing the transition. Eyes surfaced after months submerged deep in ones skull, pasty eczema ridden skin became healthy and golden, waist lines increased, cheeks rosied, moods lifted and conversation about something other than the tea house commenced. 

     Though, of course, it was on our minds often.

      We have only been open for a month and 3 weeks. But before that, we were making the tea house. It was over 5 months of 7 days a week of many hours a day. But that was just the latter part of a 3 year process. It was enjoyable! Installing cinema seats, knowing the joy people will get from sitting in them. White washing walls in the knowledge that original art will soon be hanging there. Scrubbing the living hell out of 100 year old quarry tiles, so they could once again sing. Constructing a beast of a counter from fine oak knowing that that counter will soon house QB staff serving great people a marvellous brew! Finding furniture, designing menus, staining bannisters, staining wood panelling, staining dado, staining every flumming thing and then staining them again, arguing with sparkies, even dealing with the buggering council was enjoyable. Because we knew what would exist after we had finished. 

     Or, we thought we did.

     We opened in a not-particularly-fresh state of body and mind, thinking that the slow pace of the tea house would allow for simultaneous recovery. We were excited and nervous, but adrenaline can only power you so far. Since the day we opened we have been understaffed, and on a steep learning curve. So steep, we think it did a loop da loop at one point (translation: loop the loop). Our feet had taken on a different form. Somehow moulding to a weird shape built for being on the go for 19 hours a day, i suppose. This is not a complaint, nor a pity fishing brag. We made this bed, and we are lying in it with glee and occasional unglee. The tea house is new. It's a new idea, and although its various components can be seen to be extracted from other places (ones we openly admit), the place as a whole is unique, we think. So there is/was no formula. We expected it would take time to find solutions. And i think the majority of you chaps knew it would be chaotic to begin with, understood and forgave accordingly. But we did not bank on there being so many people. We planned a big sinister campaign of persuasion and bribery. Forcing people in the door, giving great quality, friendly, focused service to each and every one, hoping that the experience would be enjoyable enough so they would then return and perhaps tell a few people. We had, in our minds, given the whole summer over to this. As our customer base gradually increased, we would learn when was busy, when we needed staff, how many we would need, what teas sold well, when food was essential, when just a bonus, what cakes people loved, what treats people came back for, which suppliers were good, which were just all talk; basically, we would figure out what worked at the tea house, what didn't, and act accordingly.

   BUT

         The doors opened on June 1st. We staffed only ourselves for front of house that day, as we didn't want our new staff to see us bugger things up. We coped for a few hours. The chef had been flung into his position and was handling things wonderfully, despite the lack of shelving and utensils. We were opening boxes of plates as we went, as we weren't expecting for them to be used. Cutlery was being unwrapped and washed for its virgin use as orders came in. But we were on top of it. the tea quality was (and always is…) good, and the food looked (and tasted…) nice. We handled the new coffee machine just fine, and were enjoying the encounters with customers as they came in and saw the building alive for the first time in 40 years. But people kept coming. Washing piled up, counter space decreased as the design flaws became evident, food ran out, and control was about to be completely lost. At 3 PM as the horror peaked our aunties (2 of them) and nana (1 of them) arrived. Like that bit in LOTR when a horsebacked Gandalf appears atop the hill, calvary behind him, just as Helms Deep is about to fall completely. Except instead of a formidable wizard, our 3'3" nana and her daughters appeared at the door, and instead of battling orcs, they did the washing up for 4 hours, til their hands wrinkled (we have reason to believe nana already had wrinkles though). Without them, things would have spiralled out of control until we could no longer cope, and something would have exploded probably. 

    That was all a wonderful and horrifying surprise. But, fatigued and shellshocked, we had made it past 5 o'clock without major major mishap, and were now into the evening. This was completely unchartered territory. 6 pm, still people lingered. Chatting, bringing personality and filling the space that we oh so feared would feel empty, even when full. 7pm, 8pm, the shoppers slowly dispersed, and there came a shift in clientele. Light fell, and here they were. The introverts, the creative, the experimentalists, the eccentric, the curious, the insomniacs. Natter took on a new form, the lights dimmed, chess boards appeared from no where (we didn't supply them) and at 11pm we were in the tea house we imagined. Busy, but intimate. Professional yet relaxed. Friendly. So very friendly. And everyone GOT it. They understood. This is not a bar, you are safe to be whoever you are. You spend so much time in your head fretting that you are imagining something that no one wants, that when you witness people nonchalantly jumping onboard it shocks you.  

     

        And there we stood, us three, battered and bruised, behind the very stained fine oak counter, watching everyone. The tea house will always BE the people in it. The things they contribute. Be it their work, their presence, their conversation. The tea and other sellables are mere ancillaries. And that evening the tea house existed for the first time, and we will not forget it. 

      We have fucked up on many occasions. Orders dropped, reservations overlooked, people accidentally ignored, emails unanswered etc etc. You can see from the few reviews that exist currently that there have been bad days. The day the chef unceremoniously buggered off 2 hours before lunch service and 2 staff called in sick was one of them. And a day from which we are still reeling. It was the day that we received 2 not so excellent critiques on that website that advises on trips. We muddled through though. But muddling always feels like you are letting everyone down. You cannot leave work with your head held high after a day of muddling. You leave knackered, frustrated, embarrassed and upset. We hope that it doesn't happen again. Though it no doubt will. We always, always try to keep our service friendly though. And most importantly, we keep it human. We are humans talking to humans. Something that gets forgotten by both sides, often - customer and waiter. The opportunity of submitting vent ridden internet comment seems to unleash the inhuman in some. But that is a gargantuan monstrosity of a topic, and a one that should be left alone.

      We would like to thank everyone who has come during this first fling. We'd like to thank your patience, and understanding as we continue to iron things out. Thank you for your help and advice. Thank you for your kind words of support when you could tell we were running on fumes. Thank you for coming back, and becoming regulars. We love having you all there, and hope you are seeing improvements day by day. Our tea selection will always be improving, we will get on top of suppliers so we don't bloody run out of things. Our staff will get better, and more plentiful, so the tea house will be a more pleasant place to be, even if the sun is making it horrifically hot, and it is busy busy busy. We now have a night manager called Ian (he's lovely - pop in to see him), and are looking for the right people to take the reins when we 3 can't be there, which means we can sleep a little. Which in turn will mean when we ARE there, we have energy and can improve things further. If any of you think you could be a right person, introduce yourself. 

        The website is being updated with menu and tea listings, cinema hire information and gallery bumf. Our food menu is gunna be more informative as well, promise. Cos it's nice to know where your sausages grew up. 

  Also, we heard a rumour that some QB official merchandise is on its way…

    And that our basement is getting bettered by a cosy factor of 4...

   Thanks all so very much once again, sincerely, sincerely. 

QB x

HAPPY FEBRUARY and Day 3 China

      Salutations!

     Let us tell you about what is going on. The graft is still chugging away. There are people in there RIGHT now putting lovely doors in and installing ducting. If you took all of the ducting out of our new place, and laid it end to end, it would stretch from the tea house to down the road, and back again, TWICE! Ever spent 4 hours trawling through door handles? You have? Oh. The work is supposed to finish on the 19th of Feb. We can then begin installing our counter, fixtures and fittings, bathrooms, kitchen whatnots and completing the decoration. Give us three weeks to a month from the 19th, and that should all be done. So mid March is the current E. TEA. A. 

    We are getting such delightful emails from people, so please do continue to get in touch if you would like to receive information/invites to the opening ceremony. We will have Beyonce there, singing the star spangled bannister, and possibly U2, playing some utter shite and wearing sunglasses. 

      It's been emotional, this whole renovation work, but incredibly educational and makes us appreciate/understand the building so much more. Which sounds wanky, but it's true. When you know exactly what is going on behind your 2 layers of plasterboard, it feels like you know the building more than others. Like you have a special tie, just like you have a bond with your lady friend, as you know her secrets, her faults, her imperfections without her clothes/makeup on, and no one else will (hopefully) ever know that. It makes your bond that much stronger. Personifying a building is possible only with a building with history and character. Well i suppose new builds still have a personality, but they would probably all be Alan from the council. Our one is ridiculous in it's personality. I hope it appreciates its new lease of life, and us messing around in it's under regions. As long as you lovely chaps come and have tea with us in it, and fill it with nice conversation and good feelinz, im sure it'll be happy. K I'LL STOP WITTERING, JEEZ.

    

      Look out for our new signs going in on Monday. They are exciting, yup. Think Fenwicks windows, but with a millionth of their budget. 

   Here's Some More Blog From China

Day 3

 Completely forgot that yesterday (in this story) there was another task that was done. And that was train ticket buying. Always a szuper phun rigmarole when in phoreign landz. I naively chose Guangzhou East to do the ticket buying in. India is famous for it's chaotic train ticket buying system, and just crazy crazy stations. This was way worse. It took me completely by surprise, as i expected order, and a lot of it. So after sitting, watching everyone for a while, attempting to get a (loose) grip of what was going on, I boldly went into a queue.

       Which took 45 minutes to get short enough for me to get hopeful, then took another 45 minutes for actual service time. It was good though, as it gave me long enough to figure out the relevant words to say/characters to write. This is what i handed to the lady -

              - and i threw a hell of a smile her way as well. This made her smile, and all the interested parties surrounding me, watching, with baited breath, smiled as well. EVERYONE SMILED. I didn't know if they were smiles of genuine happiness, anxious nervousness towards the communicative cataclysm that was about to happen, or just them trying to make me feel comfortable before they destroyed me with mock. Which ever, it was nice.

       After this frankly DISGUSTING show of a decent humanity, we got right down to business, & booked me some train tickets. There were some sounds coming from both of our mouths, and lots of shapes coming from our hands, and faces. And these shapes and sounds somehow, miraculously, made some train tickets come into my possession. 3 of them. 1 for the locomotive i am about to wake up for (in this story), and 2 for later legs. 

     So, i am going to wake up (in this story).

    I woke up. The legs were so very very sore after 2 nights of sleeping on wood. Mostly the hips, as they stick out, unless you are dead foetusy of shape (NOT A DEAD FOETUS, DEAD AS IN VERY). I totally had 8 bananas in the fridge, but forgot them as i hurriedly drank a pint of milk, ate a pack of excellent chocolate wafer objects, checked out and legged it to a bus that i hoped would sort my location issues out. The bus kind of did, but then it changed it's mind and brmmmed off in an unexpected direction. That was fine, cos i got off and jumped on a metro. I sailed underneath the many many skyscrapers in my air conditioned super slick subterranean ship. Appreciating, still, the excellent hairdos and fashions. 

    So the destination today was Chaozhou, slightly up the coast from Guangzhou. It was to be a 6 hour ride. Chaozhou is the porcelain capital of the world. A vast percentage of China's (and therefore the world's) porcelain production happens there. I was going to check out our crockery factory, just to see if everything was fine. Plus i wanted to see how it is all manufactured. Like one super detailed, interactive episode of 'How It's Made' (My desert island TV program. But on reflection, perhaps a documentary called 'How To Tune Your Solar Powered TV To Receive More Channels In A Remote Location' would be better. Or Friends). 

    The ride was lovely. I was fully investigated by most on board. I was in Hard Seat Class, on a T Class train. Not glamourous by any stretch of the imagiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiination. The boarding was incredibly orderly, and showed just how efficiently you can organise masses of people. To be filtered from one waiting room to another, as the boarding time approached, into smaller and smaller ones of these-

  - made sense, and worked.

    I had a few chats, in my Hard Seat, and near the boiling water dispenser, as i took my noodle pot out of cryogenic status, and watched a lot of niceness pass the window. Here is what it looked like -

        And at 14:00 or something, i arrived in Chaozhou. Chaozhou train station was hot. And it wasn't pretty. We got shepherded out of a side gate, as the main station building was locked. Now then. There was a smallish problem. I had not heard from Jenny (NOT HER REAL NAME) since an email a few days earlier asking what train i was getting, and offering to pick me up from the station. Jenny was the rep at the porcelain factory. I had her phone number scribbled in my book. And that was it. So, after rather venomously brushing off eager taxi drivers, i sat down and relaxed a while. It was only early afternoon, so i wasn't worried about life.

         The taxi drivers came and sat next to me, and we had some craic (or 歡樂氛圍 as they call it) and shared a tea. It became quite clear after a while that Jenny wasn't coming. So i chatted with a youngster taxi driver who i saw had a mobile phone. He called Jenny. But Jenny didn't answer. He tried for an hour, on n off, but Jenny didn't answer. I still wasn't worried, as i was enjoying all the hilarious miscommunicatory jollies. But then i started looking at my position. No Jenny, no address, no nothing. So i decided that i should just rock on into town and get myself a bed somewhere before having a wander. BUT JUST AS I MADE THIS DECISION JENNY RANG THE KID TAXI DRIVER.

       Turns out Jenny was off graft cos her child was really sick. She said sorry a lot and gave the address to the kid who then shuttled me off to the factory. 

   That was one of those moments when life could have gone a million different ways, had i lost patience sooner, or had i forgotten to scribble her number down or something. Obviously life can always go over a million different ways, but moments like that really make that evident. 

     THE FACTORY WAS AMAZING as was the approach. The town is just littered with porcelain. The roads are made of scraps of it, there are piles and piles on every available bit of real estate. I even saw a make shift shanty house made of toilet pan seconds. Unbelievable. Then i arrived at the factory. I cannot describe the weirdness. But i will try.

    Got out of taxi. Had argument over price. Taxi sped off. Pedestrian access security gates opened. No people. Walked in to compound. No people. Walked to what appeared to be main entrance. Climbed steps to plush, marble-lined, high-ceilinged, echoey foyer building. Nobody at front desk. Piles of broken porcelain indoors ruined the professional, clean look i think they were going for. Indoor water features were off, with festering pools of stagnant grey. No lights were on. Like everyone left in an awful hurry to escape the apocalypse, and ne'er did return. Double glass doors to my far right lead to darkness, and a spiral staircase on the other side ran to a mezzaniney balcony and further floors. I put down my stuff and walk outside again. No people. I walked around the compound, to the security guards office. No people. Had a little laugh. Back to strange massive foyer. Sat down and twiddled my thumbs and again considered my options. A man came out of the double doors…

     He sees me & i stand. A strange moment passes between us, as we silently question our positions. I speak first, very britishly and apologetic. His english, though good, is not excellent, but i understand that he doesn't have a damnedest idea who i am or what i want. He is just the loveliest man, and shuffles off to solve the problem. After a further 10 minutes of weirdness, everything is now resolved, as Jenny's secretary comes down, and now there are apologies coming in from all angles. It was a genuine sorry fest. I climb the spiral staircase with them, in to their showroom, meeting with their sales rep chap in the darkness. They have to turn on all of the lights, immediately illuminating shelves and shelves of glimmering chinaware.

       And so began an hour of awkward moments as they brought porcelain to me, some nice, some horrible, whilst we supped our never ending cups of tea. 

    After that was all over and done with, we walked around the factory. Glorious.

 

Any questions regarding porcelain/chinaware, i will be happy to answer them. I asked every question that ever existed i think.

They kindly arranged for the bosses son to bring me into town to find some accommodation. Not being a tourist town, there weren't many places to choose from, and the options became slimmer every time i stepped into a hotel, as they were mostly full. Through asking receptionists, i eventually came across a hotel which was cheap and moderately cheerful. I had a green tea from a tea bag in my hotel room (absolutely delicious, as if picked from the bush that morning), and then ventured off in to the city on foot. It was now 7 o'clock, about. I needed food. The town is famous for its shark balls. So i had them. Little balls of boiled fish, with noodles and greens. Absolutely delicious and not heavy. I then walked. And walked. This is what i did see

       I bought some stationary, sat in a tea house and wrote a letter till quite late. Then made my way to the hotel, and enjoyed the mattress. As i hadn't been on one for a few days. 

THAT'S ALL, STAY TUNED FOR DAY 4 COMING SOMETIME IN THE FUTURE x