Jinghong (a surprisingly nice place)

It is Tobs’ last day (boo hoo) and so we set off full of melancholic thoughts; reminiscing about those happy times we have shared (get on with it, Ed). Actually, it turned out to be a peach of a day, particularly for a Zim farmer but also for us city dwellers and landed gentry of the countryside (no guessing). We drove along the prettiest motorway, with a hedge for a central reservation and well tended borders in the side of the hard shoulder (I kid you not). We all assumed the hedge and borders were mechanically trimmed by a Chinese invention; it turns out that good old manual labour is responsible. We passed them, in their gang, presumably doing the Chinese equivalent of painting the Fortb Road Bridge. 

Tobs spotted a dozen or so familiar crops and some not so recognisable but in fact were entirely entirely common, like a ginger plant (AI helped). He was grinning more and more as the day passed, enraptured at the possibilities. Zimbabwe has some excellent growing conditions but this curious little spot of China has it in abundance. The Garden of Eden, is how he described it. 

But I get ahead of myself. The day started with a pretty drive, punctuated by evidence of SAE (severe acute erosion) (I made that up) but it was there for us to see. Landslide Alley for the 1st 100kms. Not like the other day, down the gorge. This was proper mud and boulder stuff, and recent (like yesterday). One boulder was the size of a car. I feel remorse for not checking there was no one underneath. 

The remainder of the drive was dry (phew) but our road struggled to compete with nature. It felt like we were driving along Mayan highway which time forgot and plants recaptured the space. Elevated concrete roads battled with green living plants for supremacy. Man and machinery are currently on top but come a human originated disaster we know some intelligent life form in a few thousand years will discover where we have been and draw conclusions (I think, your readers think, and I believe you think, you have run out of steam in this track, move on, Ed). 

I don’t feel in the mood for writing that promised essay on China, yet, but I will leave you with some more impressions of our time here. 

Snickers, that staple chocolate we all remember as a Marathon Bar is alive and kicking in China. Virtually every petrol station we visited sold them. I looked it up, they have even added a bit of spice for the Chinese consumer. I must admit (and my children will be amazed) I have become rather used to chilli and I did not notice my lunchtime snack housing a furtive chilli or two. 

Hawking and spitting is a common trait amongst certain Chinese nationals, perhaps of the lower social order (will I be cancelled for writing that?). It remains an inexplicably disgusting habit and I wish the authorities would do something about it. 

We noticed the Chinese like a gate, particularly if it has an arch over it. Factories, offices, government buildings even workshops all present themselves to the world via a gate. The bigger and grander, the better. Is it like my stock exchange exam tutor explaining how (I think it was) Warren Buffet would not invest in a company with a fountain out front of head office? Time will tell. 

I forgot something we saw yesterday. Annoyingly it whizzed by too quickly for us to photo: a fake London bus, full Routemaster. It was good but you know a fake when you see it: it was fake. Hilarious. 

I am in danger of breaking the “too many words, Dad” rule, so I shall sign off. 

Tomorrow, Laos.