Out of Shanghai today on a train trip to Suzho. Mr. Lu our guide for the day has arrived at our hotel with the train tickets and will be escorting us back. We are on the fast bullet train. Whilst we are waiting to board we have a question answered. How come all the seats on the Chinese trains always face the direction of travel. We watch as a train employee on an adjacent train walks the length of the carriage, and pressing a foot pedal turns each group of three seats around.
Our journey is short today, about half an hour, but still we are achieving speeds of around 300kph. A young girl is keeping us entertained with her precocious antics and peepo games over the back of a chair in front. Just before our Suzhou arrival Mr. Lu walks down the carriage to escort us off to our next car and driver combo, our first stop the Humble Administrator’s Garden. It is hot here today, Mr. Lu informs us it is over 30ºC. Although this is his home town he seems unable to cope with the rising temperatures. I would suggest that he is actually melting in front of our very eyes.
This is without doubt the most impressive of the gardens we have seen on this trip, despite the name. It seems as though the Humble Administrator was in fact a bit of a crook by trousering the Emperor’s taxes. When his misdemeanours were discovered he was given the choice, go to jail, or return to his house in Suzhou. He chose the later and built the garden with his ill gotten gains. We are fed fact after fact by Mr. Lu, some of which my fellow traveller finds it difficult to believe. She decides that some free time away from our guide is in order. I decide to stay guided and wander off with the running commentary. We meet up again a short while later, and proceed to a remarkable bonsai garden. Mr. Lu claims that bonsai is a Chinese word for small tree. We look at each other in disbelief.
We leave the gardens now and board a traditional sanpan boat, complete with local fisherman rowing the vessel. He guides us though the canals of Suzhou, and about ten minutes into our journey breaks out into song. A rather “interesting” folk song about fishing in the area. Suzhou is often called the Venice of the East. The city had many canals for moving goods around to and from the Grand Canal that linked Shanghai to Beijing. During the Cultural Revolution however Mao decided that the canals should be filled in and housing built over the top. Now, the city council has decided to reverse this policy, and has employed a Dutch company to assist in the project to excavate and reflood the old waterways.
After disembarking we take a short walk past some interesting looking shops en-route to our lunch stop. My companion is a bit peeved that Mr. Lu is taking us past these emporia, eyes front, with no opportunity to stop and look at what is on offer. I take the decision to pop in to a tea shop and buy yet more tea. We stop Mr. Lu up ahead so that my fellow traveller may acquire two small paper umbrellas, hand painted. Lunch now at a local restaurant, and Mr. Lu advises what is to be provided. I pop off to the washroom and when I return there is a “discussion” between my companion and Mr. Lu about what we would like for lunch. It seems as though he is in a bit of a tizzy because we intend to go “off piste” and order some dishes and drinks not covered in the set menu. My companion is particularly taken with the Mandarin Fish, a whole squirrel fish decoratively cut and deep fried and then covered with a thick sticky sweet and sour sauce. Mr. Lu advises that this is a very special local delicacy, which only serves to reinforce our decision. Most of the tables around ours also seem to have this dish.
After lunch it becomes clear that time is pressing, and we do not have time for both the rickshaw ride and the silk factory visit. We had already informed Mr. Lu that the rickshaw ride was not high on our list of priorities and we would rather just go straight to the silk factory.
Arriving a short while later we enter a classroom at the factory. There are a number of specimen jars at the head of the table with the life cycle of the silk moth contained within. Now, credit where it is due, this is Mr. Lu’s forte. He gives us a short talk on the history of the process, how the cocoons are harvested and processed, and what is made with the silk derived from three cocoon types. All very clear and informative. Off now the the factory itself. There are a few ladies “demonstrating” the processes we have just heard about. I venture to suggest however that they are sitting idle just waiting for the classroom door to open whereupon they burst into action. We watch one group of ladies stretching silk from double cocoons in order to make the filling for a quilt. Layer upon layer is built up before being put into a cover. These are for sale in the shop, but we decide on a couple of silk pillows (complete with silk worm droppings to assist in allergy prevention), cushion covers, and some other bits and pieces. My companion speculates whether the pillows with their droppings may assist in the alleviation of snoring.
Back on the train now returning to our hotel. I take a detour to a convenience shop and purchase some instant coffee sachets. In the room I boil the kettle, and in the process of stirring the drinks the kettle plug explodes in the socket and plunges the room into darkness. I rummage around for my torch and begin investigating, but am advised not to. I pop down to reception and inform the front desk of the issue. In very short order two gentlemen arrive, one with screwdriver ladder and overalls. He fiddles in the ceiling to no avail. He pops into the corridor and does something and lo and behold the power is restored. I am not happy though. I bring to the gentleman’s attention the smell coming from the offending socket by pointing and making exaggerated sniffing noises which he understands. His companion tries to reassure me that all is well. My fellow traveller however is far from convinced and decides to make her own representations to the management. The next I know is that we are to move to a suite higher up the hotel on the twenty second floor. There is a rush to pack everything and move up within ten minutes.
In our new room now, I finally make the coffee.