China Autumn 2019

I have hosted several visiting scholars from China and in 2019 three of them, Min Zhu, Liu Jianwen (Harold) and Xuede Zhao, arranged an invitation for me to visit China and lecture at several universities, including Zhejiang University of Science and Technology in Hangzhou and Hunan University in Wuhan. At my request, Harold arranged for me to visit several attractions and hike in several Chinese national parks. I met wonderful people, saw spectacular scenery and ate many delicious meals (including dishes I will never have again.) It was a fabulous trip. September 5, Wuhan Polytechnic University lecture I reached the hotel at 1 a.m., got only a bit over 4 hours sleep, but coffee and breakfast brought me back around. Went for a short walk with Harold, had a rather large lunch (4 dishes, including a baked oyster dish that was divine – we didn’t eat nearly all of it.) Drove to the university campus, walked around a bit – still comfortable in the shade but pretty hot in the sun. Met some of Harold’s colleagues and grad students, all very nice. The lecture went very well. In addition to faculty and grad students probably 50 undergrads showed up, overfilling the conference room. I didn’t use the mic, because of how it echoed in the room when the dean used it, checked to be sure those in back could hear me well. Finished my prepared lecture after 80 minutes, leaving 10 for questions, and I got several good questions, including a question challenging Xuede’s translation and my interpretation of a couple of the poems. After the formal session was over I hung around talking to some grad students and one faculty member until time to go to dinner with Harold and the current and former dean – another excellent meal. I didn’t realize until Harold offered me a third cup that the mild tea I had been drinking was barley tea, but fortunately, it appears gluten is not water-soluble and I had no problems with it. (Maybe I could drink regular beer.) I was tired, went to bed at 8, asleep within 10 minutes. Sept. 6 I slept well, 7 hours solid + 2 hours of dozing. Obviously my system of preventing jet-lag works fairly well. I managed to find a window seat on the sunny side of the plane, so sat in the sun for most of he trip, working on my book (mostly refamiliarizing myself. I took several 15 minute naps but otherwise stayed awake until I reached my hotel at 1 a.m.) Harold picked me up after breakfast and we drove out to a forest recreation area about 1 and a half hours out of Wuhan. Interesting place – lovely forest, a series of shrines to Mulan, who came from this region. The entire area is named for and dedicated to her – she is a major hero; schoolkids have to memorize a poem about her exploits. The “trail” is well-developed: I could have and should have worn my walking shoes instead of the hiking boots since it was almost entirely paved, with stairs up all the steep parts. Some of these were carved out of the stone, some concrete or stone blocks, all in quite good condition, although the ratio of tread to riser was consistently less than 1, and some risers were over a foot high. There is a thin creek, with some interesting stone pools carved by spring runoff and a series of small dams (and one fairly high concrete dam, with pools behind them; there is a mile long water-slide for people to slide down in rubber rafts, and at the top of the one rather high dam there is a set of slides carved into a steep grassy slope; the slides lined with what appears to be a plastic fabric; there is also a long narrow lake behind this high dam, with a string of mini-villages along one shore. The lake and surrounding hillsides are quite pretty, and there is a boat from the dam to the first of the villages, which has several restaurants. We hiked a mile or more beyond the first of these villages to a large shrine to Mulan, and a small Mulan museum. Outside the museum is a large flower garden – marigolds I think – crowded with butterflies, mostly either black or a spotted variety, and some small moths I thought were small hummingbirds until I looked at one of the photos and realized it had antennae. There is also a statue of Mulan’s horse, which of course both Harold and I had to ride for the camera. It is a bronze statue, and in the hot sun I was glad at that moment I was not wearing shorts. On the way back down we lunched on fried minnows and green beans at one of the restaurants. A mile beyond that, the trail splits; to go down, you have a choice between a long steep flight of stairs and a slide that appears to have been built out of slabs of marble. I took a slide that bypassed the stairs, probably a kilometer long. My knees blessed me for sparing them the stairs. The whole day was fun and quite interesting. I wished all day I had brought a pair of shorts and worn walking shoes – Harold wore shorts and he looked a lot more comfortable than I felt. Throughout, I have been intrigued with the architecture – big blocks of a dozen or more high-rise apartments, all the same style and all exactly the same height. I took a picture of the view from my hotel window, which shows several clusters in the university district across the lake from the hote. The plan was that I would go for dinner to Harold’s home, but his daughter’s dance teacher changed the first meeting of the dance class to that night, so he and I went to a Japanese restaurant in a large mall instead. The food was excellent but the echoey noise detracted. Since I needed lunch stuff for the next 3 or 4 days we walked through the Japanese-style supermarket, but the noise was so intense I couldn’t concentrate, and it was hard to find anything. I ended up buying 4 apples, some unshelled peanuts and some chocolate covered almonds. Fortunately I have over a dozen granola bars. The fast train to Beijing We changed the reservation to an earlier train because of the expected traffic chaos associated with a military parade planned for Sunday; somehow I ended up with a seat in the center of three across. Harold texted me a message to show the conductors (all young women) and they were very helpful in finding me an unclaimed window seat; when it was claimed by a new passenger they found me another. The scenery is quite varied – some lovely mountains, with small farms tucked into the level spots, then a long plain with lush-looking farms. Unfortunately, a thick haze – smog most likely – hung over the landscape the entire way, limiting visibility to 5 miles or even less most of the way. Still, it was great to see the countryside, the pattern of farms and villages – and some fairly large cities we passed through. An interesting feature – the restrooms on the train are squat toilets, metal not the usual porcelain. The idea of actually squatting while the train is in motion, with its rocking and occasional jerks, is a blend of amusing and dismaying. Arrived on time, decided to take a cab because I’m carrying 3 bags, one bulky and heavy, but I regretted the decision. Stood in line for a cab for 30 minutes, another 30 minutes to the hotel (a hostel actually) cost $60 for a 7 mile ride. The hotel staff confirmed my suspicion that the driver cheated me, deliberately giving me a hgrand tour of the entire city to run up the fare. Unfortunately I failed to get his license number so could not report him to the police. Other than a window facing a brick wall the room is very comfortable, big king size bed, clean shower, reasonably comfortable couch on a rather old alley. We’re warned not to go out after 7 because of tomorrow’s parade so I will rest a while and then go out for an early dinner. September 8—September 10, Jiankou section of the Great Wall James picked me up at my hotel at 10 and we drove almost 2 hours, first hour on freeways, then on typical winding mountain roads, paralleling the great wall. Chinese drivers are better than Thai, but they have a frightening habit of speeding, cutting between an overtaking vehicle and the vehicle being overtaken, often with only inches to spare (yes, worse than California or Chicago). On the way home one almost got us killed: ended up next to us just as we overtook a large truck, forcing James to swerve into the next lane to avoid a side-swipe collision. (The only time I heard him use a profanity.) [Above: James.] In the mountains we paralleled the Wall for several miles on the China side, then passed through it where it descends to a large river and goes up the ridge on the Mongolia side (now part of China, of course.) We paralleled it for several more miles, finally ending up at the dead-end of a very narrow paved road. Beautiful, lush vegetation – it obviously rains a lot. James unloaded the camping gear, which a porter would carry up the hill for us later, I bought some more water, and we set off back down the road about a mile, turned onto a gravel road, a couple hundred yards later started up a trail, generally good condition but steep. A 20 minute vigorous hike got us to a low saddle, where we approached the foundation of the wall at a point where it was partially collapsed, allowing us to scramble up to the top using some of the tumbled stones as stairs. We turned right, immediately climbed a hundred feet or so to a higher vantage (on a comfortable grade, unlike, from which we could see the wall leading off in both directions (with no tourists on it!) The picture on the bottom of the last page is looking back the way we came, toward a peak James said would be our objective for the third day. To the right, the wall winds up and down, following the exact top of the ridgeline, even when that means climbing up a cliff. The wall has precisely set stone blocks (transported some distance) on either side, two and even three meters high, topped by a parapet wall on each side, usually 3 to 4 feet high, also of cut stone blocks, capped by a triangular capstone. The space between is filled with local rocks, much of it limestone, with a final underlayer of limestone slabs, topped by thick stone (or brick) tiles about one foot square. Every high point is occupied by a stone guardhouse, most of which show signs of having been at least two stories; the passages are all fashioned of stone arches. Every few hundred meters there is a secret passage, with a stone block door that could be pushed out to let Chinese soldiers through or placed back in to conceal the passage from the Mongols. Most of this section of the wall is untouched, unrepaired for the past 400 years, but part of this section has been restored, with iron bracing to prevent collapse of the columns, and in general an attempt to preserve the original nature of the work. Along the unrestored section, many sections of the parapet wall are partly or completely destroyed; in several places the outer or inner wall has collapsed, exposing the stone fill. Most of the paving stones are gone from the unrestored sections, leaving the limestone exposed (slippery when wet); in many steeper areas even that is gone, leaving a jumble of stone fill to walk – I should say climb – on. Grass, weeds, and the occasional wildflower grows between stones. Along several sections bushes and even some trees have crowded in, covering part or all of the wall as the forest tries to recover its own. Where it is intact, the brick-work is pretty amazing. Because of the way it follows the exact ridgeline, it weaves back and forth as well as up and down, providing a perfect outline of the hill’s contours. Because the wall follows the ridgeline almost perfectly, there are many sections where it rises or falls quite steeply, with risers 12, 18, and even 24 inches high, tread as narrow as 6 inches, for a slope of 2:1, 3:1, and in a few places close to 4:1, in some places the steepest part is only 10 or 15 feet high, but in other places it is 40 or 50 feet or even more. Where the stairs have broken or come entirely off, what is left is the jumble of fill rock or just the underlying cliff face, some places solid and stable, but in other places it looks loose or slippery. Each time I came to one of these places, I calculated the risk by a pair of implicit formulae, risk = steepness times height times direction [1.2 if going down, .8 if going up*] motivation = confidence times need [how bad is the detour] divided by risk times tiredness. *going up is much less dangerous than going down. On the first day of hiking, even the steep places with paving stones and stairs broken out were not too high – a fall might result in a broken leg but probably not in a broken back. I think I went up all of these with little hesitation (there may have been one detour on the first day; there were several detours on the second day.) After a couple of hours of these steep ups and downs, interspersed with sections of relatively level paving, we came to a higher than usual peak, with two knobs. Each knob, of course, has its own guardhouse. From that vantage we had a great view in both directions. All of the guardhouses have small rooms to house a garrison below; in most cases you can see where wood pillars once stood, holding up the floor of a second story. Another hour or so brought us in sight of a colorful umbrella and a nylon canvas sun-shelter. When we reached the spot, we saw two men with coolers filled with beer, water, and soft drinks, and a handful of hikers resting in the shade. James bought two beers (one for the porter who, in the event, refused it) and I bought one; we carried them over the steep hill beyond the beer sellers and down to a level stretch. In the middle of this, James led the way off the wall on the south side to a nice level camp site, almost next to the wall but mostly screened by thick bushes. We took off our packs, sat down, and enjoyed our beers. We finished our beers, and the porter still hadn’t come, so we walked 30 or 40 yards on up the trail, to a low rise with a large guardhouse, second story still partly intact, off to the right (north) side of the trail. This is called the General’s Guardhouse because the commander of that section of the Wall had his HQ there. The next day we could look down from the next hill and see that it is part of a diamond shaped group of four guardhouses; the other three provide protection for the general. From the top we could see a very daunting sight, a staircase leading up what looked like a sheer cliff, at least 100 feet high. It is called the Stairway to Heaven; the hill it leads to is called “Eagle flying,” because it resembles an eagle with one wing stretched off toward the north and the other wing partly stretched out. I found the mountain and the stair both daunting and beautiful. No long after we returned to camp, the porter showed up with our camping gear. He wouldn’t take the beer James offered, but did accept a bottle of water. While we were setting up our tents, a Chinese couple stopped to chat a bit then moved on. For the first hour or two we had seen no-one else, but then we started seeing people, some in small groups of 4 or 5, but several large guided group, one group of maybe 20 American college students and a couple of groups nearly that large of Chinese college students. When we stopped at our camp site we could hear a very rowdy group of Chinese college students just over the next low hill. It was getting late, and James was somewhat worried about them, because the wall would be a bad place to be stranded after dark. Apparently the manager of the B&B where we would stay once saw lights on top of one of the peaks and had to go up in the dark to bring a group down. When we finished setting up the tents, James prepared dinner. It was quite a simple chore: two boxes, each with a sealed casserole, a packet of water, and an odd sponge-like pad. We placed the pad in the bottom of a separate sealable container, poured the water over it, and quickly put the casserole on top and sealed the container. The water started some kind of chemical reaction so that it quickly came to boil, and boiled for 12 minutes, whereupon we peeled back the lids and ate. Mine was a beef and potato stew over rice. Dessert was some candied mixed nuts and an apple. I still had most of a package of dark chocolate covered almonds, so I contributed those to dessert as well. We finished dinner with plenty of daylight left, so we walked back up the trail to the General’s guardhouse again. The young couple were still there; the guy wanted to talk to me: His English was pained but quite adequate. They have a son starting college at Penn and he wanted reassurance from me, which I gave him. They stayed there talking until the sun had gone down; I was worried about their getting stranded on the wall, but it turns out there is a trail down right at the guardhouse – it wouldn’t be pleasant walking on a steep mountain trail in the dark, but there are no edges to fall from. The college kids had also gone down, so we had the hill and the wall to ourselves. Back at camp we sat around talking until it got dark, and I went to bed while James finished putting the camp in order. James had brought a thin foam rubber pad for me, thinner than I usually use, but apparently adequate since I slept well. The sleeping bag was also thin but it didn’t matter; the night never got very cold and I slept with the bag pulled up only about halfway. Breakfast the next morning was tea, and he fried some bacon, mixed in cubed up apple, then mixed it in with rice he had already cooked; quite good. He did have some coffee for me – the Nescafe “1+2” instant coffee with sugar and creamer mixed in that seems to be the standard here – if I pretend it’s hot chocolate I can drink it. That’s good, because it’s all there is in the hotel and all I could find in most of the stores I looked in. Day 2 of hiking the wall. The morning’s hike began with a climb to a low knob between General’s house and Stairway to Heaven, through an arched tunnel under the guardhouse, where we could see Stairway. James explained that is the beginning of the section of the trail that has been restored, which is good because I would have considered the stairway impassable otherwise. It is not quite as steep as it looked from General’s house, but almost, with 2 foot risers and treads that range from less than six inches to about ten inches; the section with really narrow risers is probably 50 feet high; someone has strung a “rope,” actually a series of insulated wires, probably for appliance cords, tied together. I could have climbed without this “rope,” but holding onto it through the steepest part increased my confidence. This was one of several places where I blessed my long legs. James tells me that every year at least one person dies on this stretch of the wall – I really did not want to provide this year’s quota. James also explained that the wall served multiple purposes. In addition to providing a defensive barrier for 1200 years against the Mongols to the north, it was a barrier to smuggling, and a military highway for moving troops. Even when the wall was in better repair I had a hard time envisioning soldiers with weapons and packs going up and down many of the steep sections: It seems odd they did not do any switchbacks. From the other side the “eagle” looks like a lion. At the top of Stairway we climbed on up the eagle’s head to a point from which we could see the wall stretching out in either direction – and a different wall stretching off to the south from another high promontory called the Beijing Knot, because it serves as a junction. Climbing up past the guardhouse I saw and photographed several “wallflowers,” growing out from cracks between stones. Although this section of wall has been largely restored, we came to several steep drops 50 to 100 feet high, where the fallen stairs have not been restored. These were passable only by either rock-climbing or a very steep, ugly detour trail. I didn’t feel very secure climbing down them, so chose the detour trails, although these were themselves so steep and treacherous that I’d probably have been as well off doing the rock climbing. Above: James standing at the top of the section I decided not to descend. Left: the American starting up the dangerous route – just before backing down to the detour to the right. James reinforced my timidity by telling me about a young Chinese couple who had begun climbing one particularly treacherous area, the man in front. His cell-phone rang, he answered it, lost his balance and fell, knocking his wife off as well and they both died. While we were sitting on a high point facing this particular section a young American, wearing climbing shoes, passed us. He started up the rock-climb area, came to a spot where the rocks had entirely collapsed and started up it. James exclaimed “no! Not that way – go right!” Fortunately the guy realized his mistake before he got in too deep, backed down, and crossed over to a by-pass trail around the bad spot. The detours were bad enough that I wondered if I wouldn’t have been better off just climbing down the rocks. Above, one of the detours required crossing a steep gully on these two flimsy branches; drop of about 40 feet to a steep slide down another 100 feet. The branches were strong enough, but flexible and springy; I made it across by bracing against the stone. We reached the Beijing Knot at noon, sat and ate lunch and enjoyed the view for an hour. James had assured me that morning that we would be the only ones on the wall on a Monday morning, but we met several groups, including two Chinese hiking clubs and, just before we left the area, a group of four college age kids from Malaysia. I felt a bit wimpy for refusing to climb down the final section after seeing those four kids take it in stride, but looking over the edge convinced me that I didn’t want to chance it, with two more steep downhill rock climbs between the Beijing Knot and our path back to the B&B. So we turned back and took a different route down to the village. Above: where I turned back. This is the first of three steep rock-climbing descents. Our room: The Chinese government provides a subsidy, around $12000 US per year, to villagers, to keep them there. In this village, most of them seemed to be spending the subsidy building tourist accommodations: ours was still under construction. Our own room was small, two twin beds and no chairs, with a clean pleasant bathroom and shower. No luxuries, but clean and comfortable. Beds were firm; good night’s sleep. Dinner was a beef and tofu stew (spine bones I think, tasty but a little chewy). Another dish, a black tree fungus, shaped like kelp leaves, very tasty, with scrambled egg and carrots. A third dish, carrots, potatoes, peanuts, and a couple of other vegetables I couldn't identify, chestnuts perhaps. Breakfast: egg stirred in with rice and fried. Somewhat plain but tasty and filling. It rained on and off all night, and was still raining all morning. About noon it appeared to be stopping; the forecast said clearing, so we drove to a different trailhead and started up the mountain. This hike was longer, nearly an hour to a guardhouse from which we had a great view of the wall and the mountains stretching out to the west, with fog and cloud wisps rising out of the valleys; very picturesque. To the east, thicker clouds, and a higher hill. James warned that the far side is steep with no stairs, just paving stones, and might be dangerously slippery in the rain. However, when we started up that hill most of the paving stones were gone, exposing the limestone under-layer, which I found dangerously slippery. The clouds had thickened up again and it did not appear that we would have any more of a view from the top than what we already had. I wimped out and suggested we just go back, which we did. Although it is autumn, I saw some lovely flowers I’ve never seen before (above). Overall assessment: I was a bit disappointed by the weather – the first two days were very hazy, smog from the valley, which limited the view, then rain. I was probably overly cautious about the rock-climbing sections, but what I did was very enjoyable. However, overall, I was not at all disappointed in the experience, and would strongly recommend it to anyone who is in China for more than a week or so: I can’t imagine that visiting the crowded tourist section would be nearly as satisfying. James is an excellent guide and I will strongly recommend him. He is fun to be with and enjoyable to talk with; knows the wall and its history very well, is attentive but not overly-attentive. I would supplement his recommendations in a couple of ways. He recommends hiking boots: I agree, although I could see the sense in that American guy’s climbing shoes. Trekking poles are helpful going up to and down from the wall, mostly useless on the wall itself, but essential on the detours, where they are essential to keep from sliding down the steep sandy stretches. Almost anyone with at least a moderate level of fitness will enjoy the hike – but not if you have a tendency toward acrophobia! Even mild vertigo would be a challenge in several places. Good rock climbing skills seem necessary in the Jiankou section – I skipped some interesting passages because I don’t have enough confidence in my own climbing skills. With respect to the rock climbing area, James told me that he has other equally remote stretches that don’t have such daunting climbs and descents; it is important to communicate your interests and limits clearly. I would not have missed this hike: It joins Death Valley and the Machu Picchu trek on my growing list of favorite hikes. If I come to China again, I will almost certainly include another hike on a remote section of the wall on my itinerary. Sept. 11. Beijing: Forbidden City, Beihai Park, Jinshang Park. I got up early, as usual, did some stretching, worked on my journal, then had breakfast. (The only disappointing part of this hotel – they have American and two different European style breakfasts; all include wheat-based items. They think there may be flour in the pre-packaged hash browns they use, so I end up with a few scrambled eggs, a couple slices of greasy bacon and a couple of small sausages – they don’t have any fruit, though the neighborhood has several first-rate fruit markets, and apparently don’t feel obliged to substitute anything for the hash browns and toast. I was finished by 7:50 and set out for the Forbidden City, a walk of about 40 minutes. The square in front of the gate was jammed with people, huge platoons of tour people, police keeping order. I stood in line for the tickets / security but was told I had to go to a different window to buy a ticket. It didn’t take all that long. I also bought an English self-guiding machine, which was quite useful both for explaining the layout and for giving the history. The entire compound is a kilometer long, with a sequence of palace-lined courtyards and a really interesting inner garden. Unfortunately, although there appears to be an interesting display in each building, you are not allowed to enter them, and most can be seen only through very dirty glass; the smears inside the window plus the reflected glares means very little can be seen; the crowds are so thick that the ones that are open (but chained off to prevent entry) are also difficult to look into. Eventually I gave up on looking into the rooms of the palaces, just enjoyed the architecture and the many statues of symbolic animals, walked back to the entry, where I found that you can climb up onto the wall, so I walked back along the wall, looking over the entire compound, descended and left by the opposite gate. I was glad I visited, but 2 hours was more than enough, especially with the crowds. (It actually got less crowded later in the morning.) I crossed the street to Jingshan Park – entrance free because of my age – climbed up to a pavilion from which you can see over the entire city, including Forbidden City. The pavilion was closed, but the viewing platform open. This park is small but pretty with nice benches and some very pretty flower gardens. Beihai Park is even lovelier, on a small island in a lake, with several kinds of pretty little boats you can rent, flower gardens and pagodas all over the place, a Buddhist temple with some interesting statues, and topped by a white domed bagoda (a different spelling of pagoda?) I walked around there for quite a while before walking toward home. On the way home I found a grocery store where I was finally able to buy instant coffee without sugar and creamer mixed in (“1+2”, all this hotel has and all I had been able to find in other stores). Another fruit shop had watermelon samples out; they were delicious so I bought a pack of cutup watermelon large enough for dessert for two nights. Neither the hotel dining room nor the restaurants I’ve visited have fruit on the menu, although it is abundant in fruit shops all over town. I was unable to find the restaurant James recommended, so selected a restaurant that looked interesting. There I had a really nice salad (“vegetable bowl”) and two squid, whole but cleaned, flattened and roasted on spits; very delicious. Sept. 12. Longqing Gorge and Guyaju Caves. Longquing Gorge is an interesting and (based on my limited experience) typically Chinese attraction. The gorge itself is, for good reason, listed as a UNESCO World Heritage geological site. The walls are over 1000 feet high, rising straight up for 200 to 1000 feet, with deep slot canyons scattered all along. The gorge was dammed some time ago, unfortunate, but the lake snaking through the canyon has its own appeal. So alongside or atop this geological wonderland, is an amusement park, complete with a huge dragon housing an escalator to the top of the dam and a long slide – actually more bobsled with wheels – starting at about 1/3 of the way back down. Atop this layer are the ubiquitous Buddhist shrines and a temple. At the top of the dam, it isn’t at all clear how to get down to the ramp with about 20 tour boats – I wandered around for some time, including an unplanned excursion through a tunnel lined with cute little dioramas. I finally found the boat landing, bought a ticket, and rode maybe a mile up the lake through the canyon to a point where the boat turned around then dropped us off at a dock, where a trail leads over a low rise, past a temple, down to another boat landing. A side trail leads up the hill (800 feet up the hill, I discovered), past another temple, to a pavilion – Heavenly Peace I think – with magnificent views of the lake and the mountains that form its walls. Walking back down, I also noticed a side trail leading to a little half-moon bay (for which the boat landing is named) where you can rent a small wooden boat and paddle around. But you have to stay within the roped off area and can’t go out onto the main body of the lake, so it isn’t much of a boat ride. After a 10 minute wait a boat came and I boarded along with a dozen other passengers, including one man who got impatient with the boat operator for taking a long break before shoving off to take us back. Back at the dam there is a gondola that crosses the lake and goes about 800 or 1000 feet up a narrow canyon. At the top, a path leads past several explanatory plaques, past a couple of shrines, to a staircase that goes 400 feet up to another pavilion with magnificent views of the lake, the mountain range beyond, and in the other direction the small town and the farmland beyond the mouth of the lake. At the bottom of the gondola again, I decided to rent one of the little bobsled carts and ride down to the parking lot. That was a lot of fun, actually. Guyaju Caves is a marvelous place. The trail leading to it is, again, lined with explanations of the granite features. The main attraction, a couple of hundred feet up from the bottom of the canyon, is a couple of large clusters of dwellings cut into the face of the cave, some of which have several rooms, 8-10 inch thick walls, platforms, and support pillars about a foot in diameter. Most were fenced off but entry was allowed into a few. I noticed what was obviously originally shallow footholds for climbing up to the higher caves; the preservation people have filled most of them with a mixture (probably concrete) that blends reasonably well with the granite. Sept. 13, last full day in Beijing I woke up to rain, which worried me, but by the time I had finished breakfast the rain was finished – but it was humid and cloudy all day. I decided to start the day with the Beijing Museum of Natural History – but first I went to nearby Beijing South train station to pick up my ticket for tomorrow, to be sure I won’t be too rushed. As it turned out it only took 10 minute – short line. But the experience of taking the subway there convinced me I don’t want to try to jam myself on to 3 different subway cars with 3 bags at morning rush hour, so I will take a cab. The hotel clerks tell me it shouldn’t be more than 35 or 40 Yuan – the previous driver clearly cheated me badly, which I thought at the time. I decided to avoid the subway crowding, and walked back the 2 miles to the museum. Like so many attractions here, it is free to me because I’m over 65. It is interesting – they have some nice animated exhibits, but I was hoping for exhibits featuring some of the spectacular fossils that have been found in China, and there wasn’t much. Only a few signs were translated into English, so it was difficult to follow the plot; I only stayed a little over an hour. There is another attraction adjacent to the museum, but it is totally walled in so you have to walk halfway around, about a half mile, to get in. That is the 400 year old Temple of Heaven, which occupies a huge park, where kids play, lovers snuggle, and to my delight an elderly woman was dancing to traditional Chinese music. I watched her for 15 or 20 minutes and snapped a couple of pictures. When I got up to leave I caught her eye, bowed the traditional Hindu / Buddhist bow. She smiled and bowed back, twice. It was a lovely moment in a really pretty park. The temple itself is located in the center of the park, surrounded by support buildings such as a music practice room. As usual, it is difficult to get a look inside; given the crowds, it is obvious why they don’t let tourists actually enter. I don’t think I’ve said much about this hotel, the Happy Dragon City Culture Hotel. It cost me an average of a bit over $100 per night, and I consider it an excellent bargain. It’s on one of Beijing’s tiny narrow alleys, a half block from a busy street lined with shops and interesting little cafes, two of which I have sampled and found quite good. It is close to two subway stops, and a relatively easy walk to several attractions, including Forbidden City and Temple of Heaven. There are numerous fruit and vegetable markets and a couple of pretty full-product supermarkets on the streets at either end of the alley; the fruit is almost as good as at Portland’s Farmer’s Market, for a fraction of the price. My current room has a large king-size bed, one kind of crappy chair (the previous room had a queen and a double and a much better chair, but this room also has a private balcony / deck with four very comfortable patio chairs – covered, so good even when it rains. The bed is firm, the room including shower very clean. Coffee in the room is Nestles 1+2, which already has sugar and creamer in it; fortunately after just one day I found a market that sells Nestles’ freeze-dried black coffee. The only negative is the included breakfast, a choice of French toast (out for me), Swiss Breakfast (centers around muesli, which usually has wheat in it), American Breakfast – the only realistic option for me, but leave out the toast and hash-browns which may be flour-sprinkled, so it leaves scrambled eggs, a piece of bacon and a piece of sausage, all rather greasy. No fruit. But I quickly supplemented it with my own fruit. The staff is very friendly and helpful. Sept. 14 Train to Huangshan I was advised to leave the hotel early, because traffic might be heavy. However, on a Saturday morning it was very light; 30 minutes to the station. Cab fare, 39 yuan, less than $6.00. Too bad I didn’t think to get the other driver’s number, he really cheated me. Arrived a full 50 minutes early. Half window seat – F1, front of the car. Tip: It’s as bad as some airplanes, solid wall in front limits leg room, and the window stretches only a foot in front of the seat. Leaning back improved the view. Train was nearly full the entire way so moving to a different window seat for more leg-room wasn’t an option. There was a thick haze almost the entire way, visibility a mile or less, smog I think. I got my presentation for Carl’s students prepared, and worked back through the chapters I have already written on my next book before I ran out of steam, an hour before we reached Huangshan. I could draft several of the chapters but I would rather have my sources in front of me. A couple of things I haven’t mentioned. Food preparers and servers almost all wear a little plastic half-cup shield in front of mouth and nose, to prevent breathing on the food. My earlier comments about queuing behavior: I noticed repeatedly in Beijing that men, mostly late teens and 20s, will push in front of the line every time they get a chance – no-one seems to object and no one calls them on it. I’ve commented on the high-rises sprinkled across the landscape. In Beijing, the hotel was on a narrow alley barely wide enough for one car, mostly dingy greyish shack-looking buildings, mostly one story. They might be pretty comfortable inside. Streets: Jaywalking effectively prevented by 4 foot high white wire fences in the middle of all the arterials. I brought gluten-free soy sauce; so far I haven’t seen soy sauce on a table anywhere. Maybe southern China. Snacks have been a problem; I was thrilled to find bulk peanuts in a supermarket, and the fruit is mostly delicious. Parks all charge admission, 20 or 30 yuan, $3-$4 for city parks as well as the national park attractions in the mountains. Except we didn’t pay anything to hike the wall because that section is not improved. A sign said “Not open to the public” but James ignored it; apparently that does not have the force of “no trespassing.” Eating is cheap: Crispy duck was my most expensive meal, around $21; the squid and scallop dinners I had were $6 to $9. Once I got my phone fixed I have full access to the internet including Google by setting up a hot spot, through my wireless signal. If you buy an iPhone in China, its chip includes blocking software. WiFi is completely blocked. The train has been consistently going between 250 and 300 km/hour (150-180 mph). It only feels that fast when we meet another train. It is reasonably comfortable, equivalent to an airline seat, although 7 hours on any seat is pretty grim. However, much of the Chinese countryside is quite lovely with well-tended farms and gardens. Many of the houses are hidden from view by the soundscreen next to the railway, but those I can see are mixed; some new, neat, and tidy, some much older and looking a bit run-down and unkempt. Huangshan City As soon as I checked into the hotel the guide, Juston, led me on a nice walk to the “old street,” a narrow street 1 km long, with architecture dating back as far as 400 years. This is a national 3 day holiday, “mid-autumn festival,” and the various food shops all had samples out: pickles and little bread rolls. Several shops had huge “inkstone” carvings, one had three marvelous dragons. Unfortunately. the shop interior was too dark; the picture I took did not come out well. Huangshan – The mountain resort. There is a cable car to the top of the mountain but I chose to walk – a 2400 foot climb, literally just one long staircase. Quite warm at the bottom, pleasant at the top but dense fog, very humid. I did manage to get a couple of decent photos through the fog. 80% of the supplies are carried up by porter; not surprisingly I had to pass about 60 on the way up – difficult to do; they carry loads balanced on long poles, pretty well blocking the entire path. At the top, crowds of people. I had a hard time finding the hotel entrance, mainly because of a huge restoration project, and my clothing was all soaked with sweat from the climb. I had to change shirts before going in for lunch – a buffet with dishes, once again, I’ve never seen before plus one (finally) I recognize from Chinese restaurants in the U.S. – fried rice. I chose the cold boiled duck, eggplant, eggs with black mushrooms, and bamboo shoot / pork for a nice filling lunch. The afternoon turned out much foggier; it would thin a little, then thicken up to the point that you couldn’t even see the hills on either side. I mostly sat in my room, working on photos and looking out at the dense fog. Dinnertime, and it had closed in even worse. Meals are all buffet-style and it’s not hard to avoid gluten. I had what was cut like a fish steak but it was river fish, very bony and hard to eat. I also had a number of delicious shrimp, which they dip in a vinegar, garlic, and ginger sauce, some more of the green soy beans, stir-fried greens, some salad greens with corn kernels and sliced ginger, fried rice, and slices of apple and some cherry tomatoes (treated as fruit here, which technically they are) to finish the meal. Midafternoon I really wanted some ice cream; the desk clerk had to unlock a padlock on the ice cream chest. Guide read several ingredients lists – all mentioned wheat, including “wheat sugar” in one, probably meaning malt. I gave up – anyway if the chest was locked, they were probably all old and icy. Juston told me this hotel was initially built as a retreat for Party officials; mass tourism started only 20 or so years ago. It is now being rapidly expanded and renovated (with construction materials mostly carried up by porters) to accommodate the needs of a rapidly growing Chinese middle class. I have seen a few Europeans, no Americans as far as I could tell, but it is mostly Chinese. There is not much hotel accommodation on the mountain; most of the tourists ride the gondola up in the morning, see the highlights, and ride back down at night. Day 2 Huangshan Day 2 started out much better. When I awoke at 4:45 it was dense fog, so I decided to shower and have coffee in stead of going out for the sunrise, but by the time I’d finished it was clearing so I threw on some clothes and dashed out. I almost missed a glorious display of pre-dawn gold lighting up the fog to the east (got no good pictures of it) but I did get some nice pictures of nearby mountains, in and out of the fog. Back for breakfast: boiled eggs, rice, some stir-fried vegetables, lots of delicious looking wheat items I couldn’t eat. After breakfast we walked past the hotel where we would have lunch, then descended a long series of stairs into the “Grand Canyon.” Juston only went part way down, told me to turn back when I saw the sign for the funicular railway. All the steps and the level walkways are stone blocks set in mortar, usually 2 meters wide. Part of the walkway including some of the stairs is just anchored to the side of the cliff; other parts tunnel through rocks that jut out. By 10 am crowds were getting very thick huge tour groups of 20 or more people shouting to hear the echo, tour guides with their amplifiers, noisy and raucous. The fog was rising out of the canyon in patches, perfect for photographing the “Chinese painting” effect. I hiked down to a few hundred feet above the bottom of the canyon, stopped to have some peanuts for a snack, then hiked back up to meet my guide at the fork in the trail. Two different groups wanted a photograph with me, which I take as flattering. Almost everyone is really friendly, but sometimes getting past a crowd listening to their tour guide is a huge challenge. I was hiking much faster than the tour planner expected, so Juston suggested we ride a different gondola down to the north side of the park. I agreed, then he told me it would cost Y320 total (about $50), Y80 each, each way. He wanted me to give him the money, since he gets chits for free rides inside the park – so this is his way to supplement his income. The fog set in before we got on the gondola, but 1/3 of the way down we broke out under the cloud layer. It is pretty, and the little stream at the bottom forms some very nice pools, carved into the rock, each with a classic Chinese poem or saying carved into it. It was pretty and interesting, but scarcely worth $50. Oh, well. The fog had cleared more by the time we got back to the top so I got to see more of the rocks near the top close up. At the top, it was a short walk back to the lunch hotel. Lunch, another buffet: I chose a potato & beef dish, chicken leg in Chinese spices, boiled greens, fried rice, and “steamed eggs” – basically a custard with no flavoring or sugar, finishing off with cherry tomatoes and apple slices. I saw “strawberry juice”; what a surprise when I took a sip and it was hot. The Chinese don’t drink cold water; hot is always preferred, warm a fall-back. I’ve learned to be very sparing when I see the little red or green chilis, and the dish that looked like baked squash was labelled “fried chili dregs” so I did not chance that. Juston had a couple of beautiful looking steam buns; I wish I could still eat them. After lunch we set out on a 1.5 km ramble, mostly uphill, past a stone called “flying stone” because of the way it stands slightly leaning above a steep high cliff. I took a picture also of the steps carved into the rock – these are everywhere. After that we hiked on up to the weather station which affords a panoramic view in almost every direction; it is only a 10 minute walk (uphill of course) from the hotel, so a good place for sunset and sunrise. Crowds thick at the weather station, of course, but they may thin down by sunset. My room in this hotel is smaller – no chairs – but does have trees and rhododendron bushes outside the window, so it was a good place to relax. When I transferred pictures from my Canon SLR I had a nasty shock – a piece of dirt or lint or something produced a small blur on the extreme left of some of my best pictures. It can be cropped out, but at the expense of the composition. Tomorrow I will duplicate more photos on both the iPhone and the Canon to insure against this kind of problem repeating. Even though the western sky was thick with haze, I walked back up to the weather station to see the sunset. As I expected, it sank into a thick haze and disappeared, casting a faint pinkish violet glow, not enough to color the mountain peaks even. It was fun, though, for people-watching; the place was swarming with sunset worshippers. Dinner: more shrimp, a really nice dish with duck pieces, boiled chestnuts (excellent), broccoli and greens, both stir-fried, a salad (I took greens and mushrooms they had prepared for a noodle soup and ate them raw), a fish dish that wasn’t bony, tomatoes, cucumbers and cut up pears for dessert. The room was not very good – no chair to sit in, vile sewer smell coming up out of the shower. One of those weird Japanese electric toilets. Day 3. Woke up at 4:40, looked out the window and saw a lone star, so I showered, had a quick cup of coffee and left my room at 5:03. 5:15 I reached the top, having passed over a hundred Chinese on the way up, but the good viewing spots were already lined 3 deep with even earlier arrivers. A cool breeze; I had to put on both pullover and windbreaker. I found a place where I could watch the thick haze slowly taking on a sickly pink-orange; obvious this was not going to be a record-breaking spectacular sunrise so I started enjoying the spectacle of the crowd, by now 6-20 people deep behind the protective rail. I quit before sunrise, when all the color was out of the thick haze, but as I walked down, I still met Chinese hurrying to get to the top before official sunrise. Exactly why is an interesting question, since there was really nothing to see but haze and distant peaks dimly silhouetted in the haze. When 6:30 came I made the mistake of going to breakfast at exactly 6:30, scarcely realizing that all those sunrise-watchers would arrive at about that time. It was a madhouse, and most of the available food had wheat in it. I managed to get some fried eggs, fried rice, and some cooked greens and find a seat just when another man vacuated it; after I finished that I got some tomatoes and cucumbers to round it out. The only coffee was the pre-sweetened, pre-creamed “1+2.” Juston finished his breakfast a little before 8; we shouldered our packs and left, but we weren’t early enough. Several large groups were already on the way up to the “turtle riding a fish” peak. To the east, mist so thick there was no point taking pictures, but to the west it was almost clear and I got several more interesting photos, as if I needed more. After the “turtle” peak we went down into a saddle, then started up Lotus Peak. Part way up, as he usually did, Juston sent me on up while he took the low road, saying he would meet me on the other side. The path here is a series of steep and very steep stone steps, some flights carved into the wall, some extremely narrow. Many have ropes or rails – and many of the hand-rails are themselves carved into the wall. Fortunately I didn’t meet many groups going down, and indeed the steep trail weeded out a good share of the tourists. Nearer to the top, the trail went through several tunnels and under low-leaning rocks. At the very top, the viewing area (a round knob of stone with a guard wall around it) was pretty crowded, but I was able to get some more pictures, including a picture of the trail we had just descended from “Turtle Riding Fish,” Now lined with tourists all the way down to the saddle. The trail on the other side is even steeper, with many tunnels, some requiring me to inch through in a low crouch, and several sections of steep stairs with narrow treads that had neither rope nor rail. To make matters worse, there were people coming up that side, so it was often necessary either to wait while a string of people came up or, on the slightly less narrow stretches, squeeze past the oncoming traffic. Takeaway lesion: Do not visit this park on a weekend or on a national holiday! Juston tells me that an average of 10,000 people visit every day, and on major holidays as many as 100,000 arrive. Many of the tourists stay in hotels below and ride one of the gondolas up, often staying within a kilometer or so of the top of the gondola. As I got lower and lower, the crowds got thicker and I began to encounter large tour groups. Most of the tour group guides are really annoying; they have loudspeakers they turn up so high that you can hear them all over the mountain, all yelling at once. When I reached the saddle I was desperate just to get off that mountain! Crowds were so thick it was difficult to move anywhere at all, noise everywhere. The hour on that last part of the mountain was the only part of the three days that I did not enjoy. I opted for the gondola ride, which added another Y90 to my expense, but I really didn’t think hiking down 2800 feet of steep trail would be at all fun. I had also decided to visit the ancient village of Hongcun, which also added Y600 to the tab, so I had to visit a bank to withdraw some money from an ATM. I was beginning to feel a bit nickel and dimed but I put it behind me. On the way to Hongcun we stopped to look at and photograph a 200 year old covered bridge, and I also took a photo of a large hillside tea field. We also passed several villages; most of the villages in the area have 3 story buildings I thought were apartments, but Juston says most are inhabited by extended families. Once in Hongcun we went to a restaurant in the new part of town for lunch – Juston said he was taking me to a family-run restaurant, not one of the tourist places, but there were two other groups of Americans with guides, and he said the establishment had a separate area for guides to eat, rather than eating with their clients. “Not a tourist restaurant,” indeed! The food was good, including a dish of chicken cooked in a chili and ginger sauce with some chestnuts. After lunch we went to see the old town itself, parking in a large parking lot already half full. We were barely inside the town before we began to hear the ubiquitous amplified tour guides, bot the town is quite pretty and interesting. We managed to avoid them for most of the visit. you approach the town from across a small lake (large pond) half full of lotus plants, with an old stone arched bridge near the center. Almost all the buildings have the classic “fishtail” roofs (many with literal fishtails carved into them), a building style still used for almost all the new buildings in the region. Alleys are narrow, but electric motor scooters and small tricycle carts are ubiquitous. The town gets 2 million visitors each year, but 10,000 descendants of the original inhabitants still live there (and make a good part of their living from the tourist trade – a share of admission fees plus selling all sorts of things, ranging from trinkets to food items and beautiful wood carvings. We visited several historic buildings, complete with delicate carvings in stone and wood. All are still inhabited, so only a few of the classic rooms are open to the public. A few were still furnished in the old style of furniture, giving a sense of how rich businessmen lived 200 to 600 years ago. After walking around most of the town, we sat down in the garden of a teahouse, next to a pond full of lotus plants, a very cool influence on an excessively warm afternoon. Overall assessment: Both Huangshan and Honcun are well worth visiting, and I enjoyed both. Huangshan is beautiful and interesting for the mountain scenery, and very interesting culturally for how Chinese deal with their natural beauty. The dense crowds are not a surprise: With a population of 1.5 billion and a growing middle class, there will be crowds at tourist spots. Hangzhou Sept. 18 below: view from the Northern Height The high-speed train to Hangzhou was pleasant. I was going to finish up my journal for Huangshan but a very nice Chinese businessman with fluent English sat next to me and started a conversation; we talked at least half of the two hour trip. One of the great pleasures of travel! My friends Min Zhu and Xuede Zhao (Carl) met me at the station – miraculously, since it is a huge station, and my cell phone was not receiving a signal, so I could not receive their frantic messages to me. I was so thrilled to see Min I could hardly contain myself. (One of the first tasks for the next day was a call to T-Mobile to get it straightened out with their Chinese partner.) The city is huge – 10 million people – and traffic so dense it took over an hour to get to my hotel. I checked in, washed my sweaty face and arms and put on a clean shirt (I was still wearing my hiking clothing) and Carl took me to dinner at a place across the street from the hotel. I didn’t get to bed until 10:30. [Left: me beside inscription of Mao’s poem] The next morning I went down to breakfast at 6:30 when they start serving – a mistake as it turned out. Several men, hotel workers I think, were there waiting for it to open. Breakfast is served, like at all the other hotels, buffet style – the men were almost chaotic, like the Marx Brothers do buffet eating; each of them appropriated one of the serving tongs, they dashed back and forth between dishes – I finally stepped to the side and waited for them all to fill their plates before trying to figure out what I could eat and filling my own. As usual, half of the most appealing dishes were steam buns and other flour-based items, but they had a cook frying eggs, and several dishes of stir-fried vegetables as well as a platter of watermelon slices. No coffee, not even the ubiquitous 1+2 pre-creamed and sugared coffee. Fortunately, I had my Nestles’ Instant coffee crystals back in my room. Below: Carl and me beside Mao’s inscription for the site Carl picked me up at the hotel, as we had agreed, at about 8, for what turned out to be a truly marvelous day. He had accurately guessed which of Hangzhou’s many tourist attractions I would find particularly interesting. We started with the “Northern Heights” featured in the MaoTze-Tung poem we had analyzed in a couple of the papers we wrote together while he was in Portland. It is not quite as high as Mao’s poem implied – a 30 minute climb up the usual stone stairs, maybe 500 feet to a hilltop capped by a viewing pavilion and a lovely Buddhist temple – but the architecture is spoiled by a cell tower that is planted squarely over it so I did not take any pictures. I did, however, take pictures of the stone that has Mao’s poem inscribed in it, and another stone with Mao’s comments about the mountain. I also took a couple of pictures of the river and the city, much of which is visible from the pavilion. Carl did obeisance at each of the Buddha’s – good luck, he tells me – they were all very well-done shrines, before statues of Buddha and various figures from Buddhist mythology. Next stop: We took a different route down from the temple, to Linguine Feilai Park, where we encountered moderate crowds, including several tours, but not dense enough to be a problem. It is a lovely park with several attractive features, but the star attraction is the 1000 year old Buddhist bas-relief statues carved into the stone face of the cliffs. Most of these are set into a carved box-like chamber; some are full enough to be called statues rather than bas-relief. When we reached the end of the statues we faced a choice of which path to take; we chose to continue forward, eventually descending to the base of the cliff again, where we encountered a huge vine, almost a foot in diameter, across the trail and running up to a high branch. We stepped around it, and saw a limestone cavern. When we entered it we saw dozens of small bas reliefs of Buddhist saints. After that we came to several more limestone caverns, some with small bas relief statues, some with quite large carvings, then more carvings in the cliff face. This park should be on the itinerary for any visit to Hangzhou! The final stop for the morning is a park featuring a huge 14 story pagoda, which we climbed, and a collection of pagodas from different eras, mostly located in wooded areas. I will copy in just a couple of the photos I took. After the visit, Carl took me to lunch at a near-by restaurant, where he continued his project of introducing me to as many new dishes as possible. The feature here was small shrimp in a kind of cream sauce, seasoned with cream cheese and ginkgo nuts, which was delicious. Another dish featured fresh bamboo shoots stir-fried with long thin spears of Chinese yams, a white tuber. Third was a heap of a stringy vegetable that Carl identified as asparagus lettuce – he showed me a picture, literally an asparagus like stalk topped with a lettuce-like display of frothy leaves. Also delicious. The first lecture, to undergraduates, did not turn out as well as the lecture in Wuhan, mainly because of some crossed signals. I had prepared an introduction to metaphor theory, but Carl suggested a lecture about studying in the US would be more interesting and useful, so that is what I was ready to give. The difficulty was compounded by technical difficulties setting up the PPT files, and by the fact that the room was filled over capacity, and excessively hot. The dean introduced me, mentioning metaphor theory. I asked her and Carl which lecture they wanted me to give, they said go ahead with the study abroad lecture. Only a handful of students were interested, only three questions, so there were 25 minutes left; they encouraged me to do metaphor. With only 25 minutes I had to skip some slides; as with the other lecture, only a few questions, and I didn’t feel I had managed to get the key points across. It wasn’t a total disaster but I think if I’d realized these were all Min’s students, I would have consulted her about the lecture and it would have been a lot smoother. After the lecture Carl showed me around the campus – very nice, with some green lawns, a view of the lush forested hills on either side (both bamboo and other trees), a small wooded hill near the center of campus with a viewing pavilion, a small lake with a zig-sag bridge across it, a geometrically designed opera house / performance center. We ended up at a student cafeteria with a restaurant on the 3d floor – apparently a common feature of Chinese universities, where Carl treated me to another new experience – the “hot pot” that James told me I should try. They create a stock by boiling bones (Carl told me no-one drinks the “foundation” stock after I had sipped a small bowlful). Four pork knuckle bones were in the stock; they provide plastic gloves to handle the bones for gnawing, and small straws to sip the marrow through. There are small plates on which to put condiments – for me, minced garlic, sesame paste and some peanut sauce, a little vinegar and chili oil – you dip things in the condiments. We selected shrimp dumplings and a number of vegetables, including potato slices, Chinese yams, bamboo shoots, frozen tofu chunks, seaweed (each piece tied in a bow-like knot), and spinach. We dumped everything but the spinach in and didn’t start eating until the stock had come to a boil in – to keep from overcooking, we put the spinach leaves in a few at a time. It was delicious and fun. Min showed up from her thesis defense about 6. We finished eating about 6:20 and got in her car to drive across town to the big lake, where she had tickets for a musical performance. Getting there was an adventure in itself; still heavy traffic, and she reached toe location with just 15 minutes before it was due to start, only to find the parking lot full already. We drove on down the road a half mile, paralleling a long block hotel, the Shangri-La. She turned into a road behind the hotel, drove up a low hill and finally found a place to park in the middle; by now time was getting tight. We found a back door into the “backstage” area of the hotel, found our way through to the customer area on the 3d floor. Along the way we encountered several staff, who accepted Min’s explanations, and helped by directing us. Elevator down, street level, and we were on the wrong side of the street. Most Chinese streets have barriers in the middle, and often along each side, to prevent Jaywalking, and there wasn’t a cross-walk in sight. We finally found a break in the center barrier and crossed, but could not get through the barrier on the other side, so we had to back-track to a break, walking alongside a busy street, then double back to the ticket office to pick up the will-call tickets. We made it to our seats just as the performance was beginning. The performance itself, organized by famed Chinese director Zhang Yimou, was spectacular – a blend of different Hangzhou cultural offerings, all set within a light-show that embraced the entire lake and made great use of the lake as reflection. A Buddhist temple on the far side was lighted with red and orange spot-lights, a huge moon stood directly across from the viewing bleachers, and the trees on the far shore were lighted up, with the colors changing from time to time. Later in the performance, spotlights were used to create geometric patterns of different colors in the sky, and various constructions rose out of the water – first a fan that opened fully so the reflection was a full circle, with constantly changing patterns, then a huge arch that framed some ballet dancers, then a large geometric construction. I took only a few pictures because I wanted to focus on the performance not on picture taking. Some of the performers stood or were seated on round floating platforms that moved on and off “stage”; but most of the dancers performed in the water, on stages built underwater, so they were covered with a few inches of water. It opened with a woman (on a circular float) playing a traditional instrument, the two Chinese opera singers doing a duet, while rows of dancers on the near side and on the far side of the water came out, wearing large brim hats that, when they bowed, resembled a row of full moons. After that, a pas de deux (in the water) from Romeo and Juliet by two ballet dancers, then a long elaborate scene from Swan Lake, also partly in the water, but partly on a stage behind the large arch, rigged with mirrors that turned the solist into a duet then a whole troop, ending with an overhead mirror so the dancer(s) touched hands with upside down dancers overhead. Another interesting effect: near the end of one of the dances, the dancers repeated bowed, then straightened up throwing handsful of water high in the air to catch the lights. There were traditional Chinese folk songs, some contemporary songs, more Chinese folk dance groups (on both sides of the lake, and throughout all, a marvelous display of light and color. All too soon it was over (it lasted only 45 minutes). Short as it was, it has to be one of the most fascinating and absorbing things I’ve seen so far – what an ending to a long and adventure-filled day! Min tells me that it was designed and organized by one of China’s most celebrated directors; it was evident that many other top-quality artists were involved, the lighting, the dancers and singers… I wish I could go back to see it again! Sept. 19. Min and Carl both had classes this morning so I spent the morning in my hotel room catching up on my photos and my journal. Min picked me up at noon and took me to lunch – a continuation of Carl’s determination that I try as many new Chinese dishes as possible; a whole roast chicken, several new vegetables including a thick sliced green vegetable, texture like a root vegetable, that is called “lettuce.” Min was shocked when I ate the chicken tail – which concentrates flavor. I also tried the chicken feet – not much on them but it is tasty; you have to kind of suck it off. There was also a shrimp dish. After lunch we drove to West Lake, which is ringed with parks and cultural attractions, including a boat ride out to an island that has some lovely gardens, and an inner lake or pond. One of the main attractions on this island is a poet’s house that has some really lovely carved stone windows that frame the gardens. Back on shore I took a photo of a floating mansion, which houses a restaurant. We walked up to a hill that houses the successor to a famous historic pagoda – the original collapsed several decades ago, and it had to be rebuilt. Among other things it houses some beautiful wood carvings and paintings of mythological and historical scenes, including some paintings of Hangzhou from well before the industrial era. From the top I took photos of a historic Buddhist temple across the street – but it had just closed when we got there and we were unable to tour it. Because of traffic tie-ups we barely made it to the restaurant where the dean was hosting a banquet – for me, a Chinese metaphor researcher. Sun Yi, and about 8 touring German engineers – an odd collection. Min initially sat next to me but changed places with Yi, so we could begin getting acquainted. There were 20 dishes. Min and Carl checked with the waitress and warned me off 10 of them – one, vinegar fish, I had already tasted but it must not have much gluten since I experienced no bad effects. There was also a plate of thin beefsteaks, tough it turned out, and a whole roast goose. I struggled with a beefsteak and a piece of goose with my chopsticks for about 5 minutes, gave up and ate them with my hands. There were shrimp again – most Chinese eat shell and all, throwing away only the head. I tried it and the plastic texture of the shell is unpleasant so I reverted, again, to my fingers to peel before eating. I don’t think my use of my fingers shocked anyone too much. I can’t recall all the other dishes, but I remember the lotus root – crisp and tasty – and the other crisp vegetable slices including “lettuce” fresh bamboo shoots, and Chinese yam. I had to get up early on Friday morning to pack up, including finding places for the inevitable gifts. Carl picked me up in a university car, I checked out of the hotel, and we drove to campus. The dean suggested Sun and I might like to walk around a bit and took us for a tour of the near part of campus. It is quite a beautiful campus; used to be a national forest and it is still surrounded on three sides by the wooded hills of national forests. This lecture, to faculty and a few students, went much better, and I got some interesting questions from both. One student, who was from a different college and attended the student lecture, asked some really interesting questions. He and a female student took me to tea while Dr. Sun gave his lecture – in Chinese. We had an interesting conversation, although the female student didn’t contribute a lot. Later, the dean, Carl, Sun, and Min joined us for more snacks followed by a nice lunch, and they sent me off to the train with a box lunch, from which I made dinner on the way to Changshan – and my final lecture. Changsha: Hunan University Hunan University, where I gave my final lecture, is over 1000 years old, having been founded as the Academy (original buildings were destroyed by fire in the 19th century and rebuilt). Many illuminaries studied here, including Mao Tze Tung, who was born in a village not far from here – naturally his statue dominates one of the squares – and two statues of Confucius dominates the Academy. Most of my time in Changsha was spent at the university, beginning with a tour of the Academy, followed by my lecture in a coffee shop (a great venue, actually), a too-brief visit to Changsha museum, where I discovered a new and very interesting 20th century artist, Zhou Lingzhao (100 years old this year, and still working), and had a too-brief lightning tour of the exhibit of recently discovered Han Dynasty tomb relics (we didn’t realize the exhibit was going to close at 5!). The day ended with a nighttime walk up to the top of the forested hill next to campus. It is a beautiful campus, trees and gardens and many tree-lined avenues. A pleasant surprise throughout China – in spite of the huge population, there are trees and gardens everywhere. (Tea plantations double as gardens, since they are beautiful emerald green shrubs.) My lecture was well-received, and I had an interesting half hour chat with the dean of the college and Harold’s academic advisor, Professor Liu, followed, after the tour of the Academy, by a banquet lunch with several other faculty members and four graduate students. Professor Liu himself has begun to focus on cognitive metaphor theory, and several of his advisees are working on related research, so I had some of the most interesting conversations of the entire trip after the lecture and during the lunch. I encourages the students and faculty members I chatted with to consider visiting PSU, and I think it is quite likely some of them will.   Zhou Lingzhao This landscape is what first attracted my attention: I was captivated by the way it expresses both a kind of dreamy timelessness and a sense of being anchored in a specific (but mythic) time, like a cover illustration for a really good fantasy novel. In this and the other landscapes in this series, there are habitations and even distant cities and railroads – but no people. This seems to leave it to the viewer to supply the people. Throughout, I had a sense that an author could sit in front of these paintings with a typewriter or word processor and write a complete novel – or series of novels – based on the places depicted and the people implied. My favorite in the series I could not photograph is a landscape based on the artist’s home: It is a long mural, at least 25 feet long, maybe 3 feet high. It shows a series of hills and mountains with farmlands between, a railroad off to the far left, a city on the distant horizon. The horizon itself is a perfectly straight line except when hills rise up above the horizon, or mountains rise up above the top of the painting itself. One of the hills has a reservoir in the center, another has a waterfall, perfectly straight as if viewed from directly in front. We looked at it for at least 10 minutes and I still don’t think I saw all of it. The painting to the right has a similar tone. Notice how darkness intrudes from the top down into brightness and light, in contrast to the above picture in which light intrudes down into darkness. The rain-swept island to the left is also very interesting. I apologize for the reflections from the glass. Below is one final landscape, which illustrates the artist’s combination of classic Chinese landscape traditions with a very modern tone – sorry, I don’t know the art history term. He has produced a number of paintings in the pure classic style; the paintings in this series however seem unique (and to me much more interesting.) I will also mention here: This artist also produced logo-type images of Tienanman Square, and produced a famous portrait of Mao Tze Tung in a more conventional portrait style. Once I began to get a sense of the artist’s landscape style, I went back and looked at some of his pictures of people – often very idealized pictures of working people, harvesting rice, fishing for shrimp, and so on, all in a dreamy style that seems, to me, to be continuous with the style of his landscapes. I think most of these are obvious, but the picture below I find particularly mysterious: The woman at one end is playing a musical instrument; it appears the women behind her may also be playing stringed instruments, and the one with the steering oar seems to be in a pose from a dance – and there is no obvious propulsion. The title is “Fat Boat,” which could also refer to fertilizer. Shengnongjia National Park We took the fast train part way, to Yichang a four hour ride through two flat planes separated by a range of forested hills. The farmland is obviously fertile, fields pretty and well-tended, most of the houses new-looking and pleasant. We were met by the guide at the station and drove 3.5 more hours, through increasing steep-walled canyons, many tunnels (some 10 km long or longer). We stopped at a scenic area with three interesting statues, of the Farmer god, a semi-historical, semi- legend figure who was the first farmer in China and introduced many healing herbs; second figure was an early emperor; third figure a member of the royal household who was sent to “the minorities” to cement peace. We also stopped at a viewpoint where we could see the road ahead; for about a mile, through a narrow steep-walled section of the gorge, it is built over the riverbed itself, in order to prevent the need for a destabilizing cut in the riverbank / canyon wall. At about 5 pm. we arrived at the home Zhang, our guide, shares with his parents, which has four rooms upstairs for his clients, carried our bags upstairs, and started out for a before dinner walk. Zhang joined us and led us up a narrow, steep dirt trail past his family’s tea and corn fields, all on impossibly steep ground. We passed chestnut trees, Chinese dates, a wild banana tree (4 inch long grey-green fruit, greenish inside with huge seeds embedded in gelatinous fruit). At the top, we met his grandparents, who live in a traditional home with a pig-pen and some fruit trees nearby. Grandmother offered us cigarettes and, when we refused them, went in to make us each a cup of tea. Back at the inn, we sat at an outside table and were served a delicious meal, a pork and vegetable stir-fry, eggplant, a tofu dish (unfortunately overloaded with cilantro) and soup. When we finished dinner we sat inside next to a traditional Chinese round dining table with a stove in the middle and ate some roast chestnuts, then went upstairs to bed. Zhang had asked what time we wanted breakfast, suggesting 7:30 or 8. I replied with a question about the ideal time to leave for the park, when it opens… turns out it opens at 7:30, and a 6:30 breakfast would be early enough to get there by then, so that’s what we agreed on. Breakfast (each day): fried rice with some pickled ginger and chili peppers as a condiment (hot, but good stirred in with the rice in a very small amount). [Above: a statue of a liquor kettle and cups in the National Park entry parking lot.] The forecast had said cloudy, but the sky was actually clear, with only a few thin clouds until after noon. We drove up a long, long typical mountain road, a total climb of two or three thousand feet to park headquarters where, once again, the birth year shown on my passport got me in free, this time a savings of about $40. Mountain roads are always a bit scary, but Chinese drivers have a disconcerting habit of passing on nearly blind curves, relying on the horn to warn on-coming drivers, also to warn the car being passed since they also have a habit of swinging into the oncoming lane before a sharp curve. (They also tend to pull onto the highway without stopping.) Zhang is a little more cautious than most, but it still took a hefty dose of trust. When the park gate opened we were the first car through, drove the rest of a 5000 foot climb to the top of a high ridge system (it includes 5 or 6 peaks, the highest nearly 10,000 feet; the ridge where we stopped, I later realized, is right at 9,000.) From there we took a 5.5 km trail that loops about 1800 feet down into the deep canyon, passing under several rock cliffs, up over, down, up, etc., then back up to the road a little under 1 km from where we left the car. All the way it is stone stairs – no hiking boots needed, but the single trekking pole I carried did ease the burden of the steep stairs on my knees. ( If one word would describe outdoor China, it is “stairs.” Or “steep.”) This “trail” is not for acrophobics, since the slope would qualify as a cliff most of the way. The scenery, however, is spectacular, and my trusty iPhone did a good job of capturing the “Chinese painting” effect of mists separating the distant series of high ridge-lines. On the way up I forgot how high the elevation was; as I neared the top I stopped to take some photos and realized I was feeling a little faint. Then Harold reminded me that we were at 8800 feet elevation. (Then I felt foolish as well as faint.) [Below: one of the wetlands in 9 Lakes] After this climb, we drove back down to the bottom, where Zhang put us on a tour bus that led into a valley called “Nine Lakes” for a series of small lakes (ponds really) and wetlands that are closed to autos except those of the farmers who live there. When we reached a transfer station we transferred to a “train,” actually three rubber tired open vehicles with hard metal seats, decorated to look like railroad cars pulled by one decorated to look like a locomotive. The valley is very pretty, but the “lakes” a bit disappointing – to most of the Chinese tourists as well. Several of them made sarcastic jokes about the lakes most of the way. I could tell what they were joking about by the laughter; Harold confirmed it. One of the lakes near the middle did make a very attractive foreground for photographing the lush forested hills behind. Three of the lakes had fake traditional Chinese boats, including a couple of “wrecks” to provide photo opportunities. [Above: one of the Asian deer.] Zhang insisted before we leave the valley we see the deer – which, as I had begun to suspect, consisted of a herd of tame Asian deer in a pasture behind a high (unjumpable) fence; you buy a little packet of food, the attendant lets you into the pen and the well-trained deer swarm around you nosing your hands looking for a handout while another attendant takes photos, which she tries to sell you (Y20, about $3.00, each). [Below: waste receptacles] We drove from there back up to the ridgeline, to a high peak to watch the sunset, arriving at about 4, over 2 hours before sunset. Since by then the sky had totally clouded over, neither Harold nor I could see any point hanging out up there; after he and I climbed to the water tower platform at the top, took a stone path loop of about 1 km, we left. On the way, I had learned that I was in for another disappointment: I had understood there would be an opportunity to see golden monkeys in their natural habitat, but the “natural habitat” part was an error of assumptions. They do have some wild golden monkeys in an area restricted by tourists, open only to qualified wildlife biologists by prior arrangement. What tourists see are a small troop of monkeys in a large, but desolate-looking wire cage, like the cages the Portland zoo used to use. I later learned that most of the monkeys hang out in the inaccessible parts of the forest, only occasionally descending where they might actually be seen. [Above – bridge made of concrete “logs” and “vines”] We also stopped by a stone paved path leading to a lovely waterfall, where I took some pictures of the bridges as well as the waterfall. I haven’t mentioned before the fake natural park “furniture” everywhere – the bridges were concrete, shaped to look like they were constructed of small logs. I also took a picture of a couple of waste receptacles shaped to look like stumps (previous page). At the ridgetop where we first hiked there is a huge “fallen log,” complete with fake tree rings and even fake fungus, housing the restrooms, and the park entrance itself is arched over with a fake fallen tree arch. They’re all well-done and look real if you don’t look too close. We stopped on the way back to the B&B and I bought a melon for dinner and breakfast; it made a very nice dessert, and a nice addition to the fried rice for breakfast. [The statue on the highway above “Longevity village”] First thing we did after breakfast was to drive up to the ridge again, stopping along the way at a viewpoint celebrating a “longevity village,” where a disproportionate share of the residents are over 95 years old. At the viewpoint is a statue of an elderly couple with a “log” arch, made of concrete, behind them: These detailed fake logs are found in several places in the park. [A bridge leading to Golden Swallow Cave] We drove on up to a parking lot at “Golden Swallow Pass,” where there is a rainbow-shaped bridge across the highway. After a series of stairs the path led into a cave, where in the dim light of the guide’s flashlight we saw what I at first thought were bats flitting about, but they were swallows; we also saw swallow nests in the cave. When we came out of the cave, we crossed the arc bridge; the guide went back to the car while Harold and I took a long detour that curved around and down under the cliff and back up to the level of the highway. The next stop led Harold and me up a series of stairs and through another cave (not so dark this time), and eventually into a valley that had several statues of rhinoceroses – and an opening into a cave where ancient rhinoceros bones were found in 1996 – a total of 8 rhinos plus bones of some other animals and artifacts of Neolithic people, along with petroglyphs. They had recreated the scene as it looked during the excavation of the cave, with models of the bones in the positions in which they were found. The only two unfortunate things: They had installed led lights that changed colors all the time, casting ugly blue, green, and pink tones on the display – and some idiot had “improved” the faded petroglyphs by painting over some of the faded lines. Otherwise it was a spectacular morning – and surprise! no tour groups; we were the only two people there. We ate our lunch in that pleasant valley, listening to the song of several species of birds and looking at the rhino sculptures, then descended by a different stairs. [Below: The Farmer God] After lunch we stopped at a valley that houses several natural history museums and a cultural museum. I found the display of traditional tools in the cultural museum the most interesting; it included a single bottom plow designed to be pulled by an ox (still used in parts of Asia where the hillsides are terraced into fields too narrow for a tractor; Harold remembered seeing the ox plows used when he was a child. The biological museum would have been more interesting to me if the explanations as well as the labels had been in English (same problem I had with the Museum of Natural History in Beijing). We were unable to reach the museum of the giant salamander: the trail was closed because of rockfall hazard – and, on the other side of the river, the road was also closed, blocked by a slide that included at least one boulder the size of a large automobile. (On many of the trails we ’ve seen “watch for falling rock” signs; the sight of that boulder sent shivers down my spine, plus memories of the recent rockfall in the Columbia Gorge.) Our final stop was a temple to the Farmer God. An amusing irony here; the statue can only be seen from the far side of the valley; after you’ve climbed the long flight of steep stairs, you confront a dense growth of evergreen shrugs that blocks all but the top, and tourists are prohibited from going any further. The Farmer God is still worshipped, considered to be one of the two ancestors of all Chinese and a source of good luck – it is purely a traditional religion with no connection to Confucianism or Buddhism. From there, we stopped again to buy some more Chinese dates for lunch on the final day here, as well as a melon to enjoy with dinner and breakfast. On the final day we had only one thing on the agenda, so we packed up our bags before setting out, the Zhang drove to a lower-lying area not far from his house, where a series of steps led up to a spectacular series of waterfalls, the highest spilling through a cave. Beyond this, the path led on up to a viewing pavilion with a roof thatched with grass [right] then to an interesting stone “station” [next page]. After passing a gate marked with the symbolic bull’s horns symbolic of the Farmer God [below] the stone path led back around through an area belonging to an ethnic minority, the Ba people. Harold wasn’t sure, but it appears the bull’s horns have some special significance in the Ba culture. Beyond this gate, the stone path led through a series of shops, some quite interesting. I bought a small bracelet from a sales lady wearing a traditional costume in one of these, and took her photograph. On the outside of that shop hung a traditional “raincoat” and hat. Another shop had a huge display of medicinal fungi, including this giant mushroom that appears to belong to the boletus family, since it ha cellular rather than finned pores. Finally we came to a shop where a local artist had a studio, producing ink brush paintings of local scenes; I bought a small painting here to take home. Unfortunately he was not present when we visited. It had clouded over by the time we set out back to Yichang and the train back to Wuhan, but I greatly enjoyed the scenery, mostly the same steep limestone cliffs until we were nearly to Yichang, a few foothills, then flat plains the rest of the way to Wuhan. Overall impressions: here and in the northern mountains I visited, tea fields and orchards (and a few fields with other crops) are laid out on slopes that would qualify as double black diamond at a US ski resort; the slopes appear to be at least 40%; some are terraced, but not all of them There are orange groves in the lower elevations as well as the tea fields. Everything is neat and clean; the only evidence of litter is the occasional Kleenex or empty water bottle dropped beside the trail. Harold tells me the government has just begun promoting recycling, so this is likely to improve with time. On the plain, fields look very fertile, and the villages look prosperous, with new, well-tended houses. In the mountains, the villages near the park resemble tourist resort villages anywhere, with mixtures of restaurants, small grocers, and tourist shops lining the streets. Many of the hotels have as many as 10 or 12 stories, the signs are of course in Chinese, and the fishtail architecture is fairly frequent, though not as frequent as farther north. Harold also tells me that it is difficult to book a room for a foreigner outside the larger cities; I can easily understand, given the population, that they might feel they have plenty of business with indigenous Chinese. When we arrived back in Wuhan, the smog was thick, temperature 32 (90 F) – a stark contrast to our recent mountain air. The cab driver took us the long way to the hotel, since it is only 2.5 km from the train station, but Harold accepted it, since 2.5 km is much to far to lug my heavy duffel bags. As usual, when I saw the price of the room – Y512 per night – I gasped, then divided by the exchange rate and realized what a bargain it is (carpeted, luxurious bathroom, comfortable chair, and a glorious view of the city, if the smog would only clear). The only remaining chores: repack my duffel bags, since I just stuffed everything in after the morning’s walk, and go to Harold’s home and to dinner. Last day – Sept. 26 I’ve been fighting what appears to be a mild case of bronchitis for about five days; I woke up in the middle of the night with a sore throat, which really scared me – propped myself up on a stack of pillows, managed to get back to sleep. So, the first order of business was to get Harold to help me find and purchase a decongestant – none of my familiar brands were there; I ended up buying some cold medicine pills and some other pills to help with the throat irritation; they seem to work, so return home is not as iffy as I had feared. That task accomplished, Harold drove me to East Lake Park. East Lake is a huge lake near the center of one of the three parts of Wuhan; it in turn is divided into several smaller lakes by viaducts you can walk or bicycle across. Some of the lakes are 10-12 miles around, more than I wanted to hike with impaired breathing – especially since a dense smog had settled in during the night, particulate matter I didn’t want to suck into my lungs, and visibility ranging from a half mile to maybe a mile and a half. So we began by walking around one of the smaller sub-lakes, and unexpectedly encountered a really nice sculpture garden, where I took several pictures. I especially liked a sculpture of two dogs (or wolves) sniffing each other, and a sculpture of bubbles; very playful. At the far end of the lake we also passed by a large amusement park on the other side of a freeway. Back near where we started, we walked in the other direction, through the part of the lakeside park Harold likes best. We passed a “fairy garden,” consisting of small-scale (about ¼ scale) replicas of a wooden three-masted ship, a Dutch windmill, and some other European architecture from pre-industrial times. We passed idle row-boats, offering rides on the lake for half price – but evidently other park visitors made the same calculations we did; why spend money rowing out onto the lake when the shores are half-obscured by smog? This entire section of the park is quite pretty and a great place for walking or bicycling. We had lunch just outside the park and proceeded to the second destination, the Yellow Crane Tower, a large famous pagoda that sits inside a large park, with several pavilions, a performance center, a stone museum, and other attractions. We walked the length of the park, to the Tower at the far end. The tower is named for the statue of two cranes, in brass to judge by the way it has weathered, really a marvelous statue. Again, with the smog I wasn’t inclined to climb the tower, so we headed back toward the entrance. Just as we were turning back we heard an announcement of a performance of 2500 year old music and dance on ancient instruments, so we poked around in the stone museum, a collection of very interesting stones, some with a history (part of a demolished temple or fortress), others with interesting shapes or patterns. Unfortunately, they were displayed against a drab dirty wall in bad need of a paint job, so I decided not to take any photos. The final attraction: the performance. We arrived a minute or two late; when we entered and found our seats a group of women in traditional dress was dancing to a traditional folk song. Then they brought out the classic instruments, including two stringed instruments, an xylophone-like instrument, some flutes, and two collections of bells, some large enough that a separate musician used a long wooden pole to sound them. Several songs were played on these instruments, there were more folk dances, and one of the women sang a beautiful traditional song. Unfortunately, the contrast between stage and audience lighting was too much for my iPhone camera; none of my photos came out. It was a marvelous way to end my stay in China. I spent the rest of the day resting, sorting, and repacking for the flight home. But I had one more food adventure: Since I would be eating alone, I decided to eat in the hotel restaurant. I made the mistake of asking the server’s advice, and ended up with two dishes. One was pork spare ribs accompanied by what looked like boiled quail eggs (okay, but an odd accompaniment). Positive aspect: Three leftover ribs will make a good lunch for tomorrow, since the flight leaves just after noon and will not include meal service. The other looked like and was described as a vegetable medley bowl. It was ringed with 1 inch chunks of corn on the cob, filled with boiled or steamed peanuts, topped with something the size of a grape, but withered, which I could not identify and by four spears each of yam and a round, half inch diameter white root vegetable I couldn’t identify. Boiled peanuts are no better than they sound – edible but not nearly as good as roasted peanuts, and the corn was over-ripe to the point of almost ready to become seed corn. The two root vegetables were good. Both the ribs and the vegetable dish were quite bland – and the server brought me a knife and fork without my asking. I think both the bland food and the flatware reflect stereotypes about Americans. The experience overall China is a beautiful country – more beautiful than I had expected. I knew it would be rapidly modernizing (there is construction everywhere; my various Chinese friends joke that China is a poor country with a rich government). The infrastructure is not just the high-speed trains; the highway system is also in excellent shape, with new roads and freeways completed or under construction everywhere. The parts of China I saw are very clean; roadsides, streets, and sidewalks well-swept, not much litter (a few Kleenexes and empty water bottles along the trails, but I didn’t see anything like that along the roadsides). Restrooms are immaculate. There are shrines and pavilions everywhere, most in the traditional architecture with “fishtail” rooflines. People I encountered everywhere are friendly and polite (aside from the habit of trying to crash lines, and the aggressive driving habits). I was impressed with the academic people I met, teachers and students alike. English speaking is still largely limited to college educated people, but I was able to communicate with gestures when I didn’t have an English speaking friend. Fortunately, English translations are usually available where they are really needed, such as the station announcements on the high speed trains. After four days cultural acclimatization with Harold in Wuhan, I felt quite comfortable travelling alone to Beijing and back, and sightseeing alone in Beijing (although, when I had trouble with my cell-phone halfway through the trip, it gave me a few moments of panic). However, I was glad to have a hotel in Beijing with an English-speaking staff, and glad I arranged for guides to all the national parks. The large population is evident almost everywhere – even during the week tourist attractions are (by Oregon standards) crowded, usually with several tour groups, and clusters of high-rise apartments crop up in unexpected places, but it only occasionally feels oppressive. Public places, including the central gathering areas of tourist attractions, seem noisy, but I also experienced many moments of peace and silence in the national parks – and even in some of the temple grounds in the center of Beijing. The last-minute planning wasn’t as much a problem as I feared; I was able to visit several beautiful and interesting parts of eastern China, and the university visits were all quite successful. It was a great adventure. As I commented in the Shennongjia chapter, there are stairs everywhere; even in national parks and nominally wilderness areas there are concrete or stone, occasionally wood or metal, walkways and stairways; I carried hiking boots all over China for 3 days hiking on the Great Wall. There is also security everywhere, sometimes two separate baggage scanners in sequence. The agricultural lands I saw were mostly lush and green, some of them on very steep hillsides; except in the north central area the farm villages seem prosperous, with new or newish, well-kept houses. As in India, I noticed a lot of use of machines (such as modest-sized combines, suited to the small size of most fields), but alongside them is manual labor (for example planting shrubs and flowers along freeway margins) and traditional tools and methods. Brooms made of bundled bamboo stalks are very popular for sweeping outside areas; farmers still spread the rice crop out on pavement to finish drying in the sun: Harold says it is harvested before it has completely dried and hardened in the head because farmers are eager to get the field cleared and replanted. The smog is one reason I have not been enthusiastic about visiting China, and it was a factor about half the time, including the entire time in Beijing. Earlier I wrote that the one-word summing up would be “stairs,” but it is more accurate to say stairs, smog, and crowds. Oddly, I did find solitude and quiet at surprising times – in temple grounds, a couple of times in the national parks I visited. The food is marvelous; would be even more so for anyone who doesn’t share my gluten problem. Even having to avoid dark sauces and other wheat-based foods, I enjoyed a wide range of delicious dishes, most of which I may never have again. While I was there, preparations for National Day, the 70th anniversary of the founding of the Communist regime, were underway everywhere; much of the construction I observed was related to that. Red Chinese flags began to crop up everywhere. I might add that most of the Chinese I chatted with avoided politics, as did I, but the few who mentioned politics uniformly expressed a feeling that Trump’s tariff war is unfair to China, and hurts Chinese people more than it hurts the government. Harold tells me there is still some hostility toward the U.S. dating back to the Cold War, but most of the Chinese I met are friendly and interested in Americans. If I go back, I want to make sure to allow time for visiting areas farther west, even as far as Tibet; I have been told that crowds are much thinner, the scenery spectacular, and the chance of observing wild animals much higher. A few months after I returned LaJean and I moved into Willamette View, a Continuing Care Retirement Community - and the COVID epidemic swept through the world. I got a very odd feeling from the realization that I was in Wuhan only a couple of months before it began there. Slightly different timing and I would have had a very different experience.