We weren’t up quite as early as we had wanted to get down to the huge main square across from the Post Office. We’ve already caught fleeting glimpses during our early morning bus trips of vast numbers of people, all ages, all sizes, doing their exercises, both individually + in groups, so wanted to get down to get a closer look, +, of course, take some photographs. Quite a few people were coming away from the Square as we approached, but there was still quite a lot going on. There were groups of people going thro’ choreographed sequences using sticks, others involved in something which resembled a Butlin’s keep-fit class, while lone old men + women indulged in solitary, self-indulged work, in the midst of all that multitude, part ballet, part martial art, part shadow boxing. Still other people were batting shuttlecocks across to each other, + I was particularly interested to see groups spinning Frisbees across the space. When some of these saw my interest, I was quickly included, happy to show my paces. I promptly made a fool of myself, since the Frisbees were far lighter than the ones I was used to, tho’ eventually I was able to adjust my throw + prove myself. One often has the idea that the element most lacking in a communist or totalitarian state is a sense of fun, but all these people belied that. And it made the western world’s current passion for physical fitness –jogging, squash, et al – appear merely faddish.
We went along to the Kunming Hotel, the town’s luxury hotel, partly to leave “Mr Biswas” at reception for David + Laraine – they weren’t slumming at the Kun Ho like we lesser mortals. Unfortunately, Val managed to antagonise the receptionist by, rather too loudly, telling a trio of travellers who had just arrived about the Kun Ho + how cheap it was. Our real reason for being there however was to have a Western breakfast, even if only a simple one – eggs, toast + coffee. At any other time it would have been a most indifferent breakfast. In China, after 2 weeks of exclusive Chinese cuisine, I at least thought it was wonderful.
Thus fortified, we set out for the Western Hills, + after the usual flap + kerfuffle about finding the right bus, going thro’ our usual spell of depression + despair at ever getting there, found ourselves on the No 6 bus. We joined a group of other tourists, mostly Chinese but including one German couple, transferring to another bus to carry us further up, then tramping up the hill towards the Dragon Gate. It was a grey + unpleasant day, but there was a fine view over Lake Dianchi, 6th largest natural lake in China, so our guide book tells us. We noticed 3 old ladies in peasant costume hobbling up the hill in an obviously painful manner, + noticed that they were wearing very strange, foreshortened shoes with pointed toes. I am certain that they were ladies whose feet had been bound in their youth, in order to keep them dainty + attractive. And, of course, almost useless. The practice has now been outlawed, but its victims still exist, + must live with this senseless mutilation.
There were many tourists, Chinese tourists, at the Gate, most of them taking photos in the traditional Chinese manner, ie posing formally in front of some temple, statue, scene – almost any landmark will do. I don’t know for sure exactly what the Dragon Gate was – the path wound up steeply past a number of shrines + small temples. Clearly, Buddhism still plays a role in Chinese life, + it would seem the authorities are now adopting a pragmatic rather than dogmatic approach. Attempted repression of religion is nearly always counter-productive, I think. It merely drives it underground, makes the mysterious more mysterious, + can even force it to become the focus of political unrest. Far more sensible, even without handing out enthusiastic encouragement, to let it alone. Most religions are forces on conservatism + stability, things all govts desire… within their own borders.
The German couple told us of an alternative route back to town, by boat + bus, + we did think of taking it, + did walk all the way down to the lake, but the clouds breaking into rain,, plus confusion as to where the boat actually left from, dissuaded us, + we rode back on the bus. We did some shopping in town, buying some goodies for the journey to Emei Shan, our next destination, as well as longer term goodies – instant coffee, jam. The Friendship Store – the Foreigners’ Store – was a small room on the 3rd floor of a large dept store, so we had a look at what goods were also generally available. We were quite amazed at how cheap some of the stuff was, especially plain household goods, musical instruments, + games. We bought ourselves a pack of cards, really attractive, really cheap. In the Friendship Store itself, we treated ourselves to coke + chocolate.
We walked down a street running down the back of the store, where we had heard there were some fascinating local tea-houses. We weren’t the only ones who had heard about the street – there were some white faces among the local ones – it was still amazing. Old men in blue suits sat around on wooden stools drinking bottomless cups of tea – as soon as they drank a half-inch or so, a lady would refill the cup from her kettle. And while we were there, an old feller in the first tea-house was telling a story – this is a regular occurrence by all accounts. The storyteller had an attentive, if rather geriatric, audience. We took a few photos – the old men seemed quite keen to have themselves recorded. It made for an annoying time when we had to change our film.
We went back to the hotel, managing to catch the wrong bus, + having to walk, change, + mess about – a pain, but we made it in the end. Pilled our bags out from the dorm + put them in storage, to make it easier to grab them on the way to the station in the evening, then went out to eat. On the way, we called in at the dept store to buy a mains adaptor for our radio – we’d spotted it earlier, + realised that it would mean we could play some cassettes. Then went to eat at the Kunming Hotel, recommended to us by the German couple we’d met. It turned out to be a good meal, with some different dishes we hadn’t tried before. It all worked out very neatly, for after we’d eaten, the timing was just about right to get down to the station. We did have a slight hassle when we tried to post the cassette to Val’s mum – as the customs man had gone home, it couldn’t be sent. At the station, we were pleased when no further troubles occurred, when we found our train, when our hard sleeper berths were actually there. We sat + drank coffee as we moved out.
A splendid day, with lots of photo opportunities, and everything working well – checking out, a good meal, finding our way (eventually) to the places we wanted to see. And then with our own berth on the train.
