fillingthegaps

We were only going to be here for 2 nights and we did not expect to see too much of the Russian Capital. How wrong can you be?  We arrived at about 3.30pm – skies were overcast, the temperature was struggling to get above zero and the wind wasa blowing strongly. It was freezing! Fortunately we were met by a delightful couple with their 3 children and – most importantly- a van!

Our packs were quickly stowed into the van, and I would like to say  that we were whisked away to their apartment. But ‘twas not to be – first we had to purchase rail tickets for our next leg to St Petersburg. This turned out to be incredibly difficult and frustrating. I haven’t the time or patience to tell you all about it: suffice to say that the procedure took over an hour; they would only sell 8 tickets from one booth, they got all our passports tangled up and we ended up paying full fare for everyone and at least 4 times as much as we had budgeted for. After that the van drove off with our stuff, and we went for our first trip on the Moscow Metro. The most elaborate Underground system ever! You felt like you were raiding somebody’s Crypt. Efficient, decorative and very noisy.

After 40 mins or so we emerged above ground to be greeted with light horizontal snow. It was still cold! And walked to the apartment – the usual ugly soviet concrete block with crumbling exterior and dungeon-like interior. But the apartment itself, though tiny, was warm and inviting.We were quickly at home, and digging into large bowls of steaming soup!

We thought we would get an early night after spending the previous 4 on a train, but our hosts had other ideas and insisted on taking us to walk around Moscow’s Exhibition Centre. We got there about 8.pm and did not get home until late. needless to say we froze ourselves stiff!

After a hearty breakfast the next morning we thought we could take a quick look at Red Square and  get the kids home for a nap. But no… We got to the Square around midday then started a long trek to see the Kremlin,

Ivan the Terrible’s castle,

Red sq the changing of the guard,

a few cathedrals, the State Department store

 and a mall where we found some food. Then on again for a walk alongside the river and a look for more cathedrals. We walked ourselves to a standstill. Then another trip on the Metro to get home

Another day, another ger, and my mind was not in a good state. Living in gers had left me feeling grubby; in need of a long hot soak in an antiseptic bath solution! Our next stay is to be at the Anak Ranch: a ranch-type setting where the accommodation is again in gers – my apprehension was intense, and my sense of anticipation was less than eager.To get to the Ranch we boarded a ‘local’ sleeper train at 9.0 pm. Paying for 2nd class tickets we found ourselves booked into third class carriages. These are the ’bare bones’ 6-to-a cabin-section sleepers designed around the midget fraternity. To add insult to injury, an attendant turned up with pairs of sheets (nice, we thought) for which we then had to pay extra. Since we were getting off further up the line at 4.0am (yes 4.0 am in the middle of the Mongolian wilderness) we said we could do without them. But no, regulations insist that we must have them, and pay for them! Fortunately a friendly Mongolian lady who could speak some English came to our aid, and we managed to sort things out. (it still cost us!) The same lady also arranged to get us some blankets, which were much appreciated as the thermometer plummeted through the night, and the train heating was turned off!

I was particularly grateful because I was doused with icy water in the early hours of the morning. How? Well I went to the toilet, as one does, and no sooner had I locked the door than an icy shower came from the ceiling, soaking me front and back almost to the waist. Leaping aside with credible agility, I looked up to see the shower continuing to descend from a vent in the ceiling. I thought initially that this must be some sort of automatic cleaning sequence rather like the Eco-toilets around Auckland. Then I reminded myself-this was Mongolia! I concluded that this was the heating vent and that the heating must have just been turned back on – the resulting air blast shifting a couple of litres of cold condensate out of the system, and all over  me. When I got back to my berth, Rob was awake and I gratefully accepted his offer of the blanket. Fortunately since the humidity in this country hovers around 20% I dried out before we had to get off the train.

We had been warned that our transfer to the ranch would be either on horseback, horse-and-cart or walking  for 20-30 mins. The prospect was a bit daunting-a walk at 4.0 am with the temp sinking a fair bit below zero, but we were prepared for it as we had been anticipating this for many months. Imagine my delight to find a car from the Ranch waiting for (some of) us! The bulk of the packs and my trusty wheeled case were transferred to the car’s cavernous boot &back seats. Rach, ER2 and I climbed in beside the driver, leaving the rest to be led off into the dusty blackness. The air was decidedly nippy and we were glad not to have to ‘enjoy the experience’ We rumbled and jiggled our way for 20 mins in the car, in total blackness, the way ahead appearing as a well-worn, undulating  cattle track, snaking its way through the darkness. Arriving in total darkness, the driver cleared us and the packs out of the car, and silently disappeared. We thought of the pioneer party back at the railway station. In our minds, a 20 min drive equated to at least an hour’s walk for them! Someone appeared from out of the darkness and led us out of the frosty night into a ger with a blast furnace roaring inside. It must have been close to 40C in there. By the time we had sorted out where the packs were to go and who was likely to sleep where, the remainder of our group came trouping in, having been collected by our trusty driver.

So much for our horse-back ride in the night! We were quickly learning that our Host was quite a character with an impish sense of humour. He was larger than life, but we were to discover that this man and his Mongolian wife have carved out an impressive facility by dint of hard work and entrepreneurial flair. Flippant on the surface he was, but a shrewd hard worker lurked beneath. Rachael has described our early encounters with this man, as he terrorised and then charmed the kids back at our hostel in Ulaanbaatar

But back to the re-assessment. Here the gers (we have 2 of them) are virtually identical with our two previous encounters, but they look and  feel much more at home. As with all  Mongolian ‘houses’, they sit in a fenced enclosure, but here there are 4 or 5 gers in the enclosure, and over the back fence is the majestic sweep of the  ‘Steppe’(?) leading across to  the mountains.

Here the gers look and ‘feel’ right, and we are all loving being here.The kids are having the time of their lives, getting involved with the animals on this ranch. The ranch is not remotely ‘touristy’. They aim to give you a taste of life as they live it themselves –if you don’t like it then that would be just too bad. The gers are situated next to  what is the ranch ‘corral’ set-up.

They have an interesting assortment of animals on the ranch: goats and sheep of Mongolian variety, all with new kids. Also cattle and young calves and  selection of nags, working horses, which the children are getting more and more confident in riding. They have been helping to feed the young animals, milk the cows and shovel endless mountains of cow manure – and loving every minute of it.

The older ones have also taken a  keen interest in the cooking and have been assisting and learning a lot about  Mongolian food. We are really enjoying the copious amounts of fresh boiled milk straight from the cows, pl;us the yoghurt and cheese.After a period of travelling almost constantly they are loving being anchored in one place and having the space to really let their energy loose.

All our meals are provide and usually the Owner comes into our ger and shares the meal with us – sitting comfortably on the floor and entertaining us all with his endless tales of adventures in various parts of the world. You would hardly call him a steadying influence on the children: his language is colourful and his stories of encounters with other people leave the kids chortling with ‘illegal’  glee.

We are the only guests at the ranch at this time. This is the ‘off’ season – most people preferring to come when Spring has really greened the countryside and before the intense heat of the summer makes life uncomfortable again. This is a harsh environment. Temperatures drop to –40C in the winter and can hit +40C in the summer. Rain comes at the end of spring and into summer, and then switches off for the year. They don’t get pretty-postcard snow here-soft flakes floating gently down to cloak the countryside with its magic. Here snow comes as wind-driven sleet – well and truly frozen before it reaches the ground. There the wind sweeps it into frozen drifts of unyielding ice. Not too pleasant. The humidity is incredibly low – usually around 20% The air dries out your skin, your nose and your throat and leaves your body full of static electricity: when you walk close to Tgirl4’s fine blond tresses – they stream out to you like a golden spider’s web. Yesreday we had a beautiful summer’s day and everyone was running around in summer tops. Today the skies were leaden and the wind was like a knife. Sleet was in the air and most laid low in the ger until the sun broke through this afternoon. It was still cold – but the kids were anxious to hone their horse-riding skills!

In short, we are having a ball. This family is now certain they have to have a farm when they get back to NZ. THey love the animals, they love horses, in fact Kgirl10 has decided horses are even better than cooking or dolls We will be quite sad to leave this remote but beautiful corner of our world. But but we have more adventures ahead, so that softens the parting pangs

in my last post we had just arrived at the ‘GER” the Mongolian name for their circular felt-insulated, collapsible homes. 

Rach had found this place through the ‘Couch-surfing’ web-site. The original intention was that this would be a time when the kids could experience real winter conditions with heaps of snow and frigid temperatures. The kids were really looking forward to snow, but alas, it was not to be. Frigid temperatures yes. Iced-over river, yes. But snow? Only on the distant mountains. Never the less, this was to be one of the most unforgettable experiences of our lives.

As we made our way across the rocky section we noticed a quaint little shed in one corner. Gardening shed? No this is the toilet chaps, equipped with the very best traditional         2-plank squat facility. (a great incentive for learning the art of ‘hanging on’ in the middle of a minus 10C night!)

When we reached the Ger we wondered how we were going to get in. Rob was about twice the size of the door opening!

However our smiling hostess with limited English beckoned us in, and we struggled into the relative gloom on the inside. Now outside we have had clear blue skies since I can’t remember when, with the sun always dazzling our vision. And the air temperature has been hovering around 3 – 10 C. Suddenly we were pitched into the relative gloom of a windowless Ger with a room temperature around 28 C.

Let me take a moment to describe a Ger. It is circular, approximately 6-7m in diameter. The wall height is about 1.5 M and the centre is supported on two poles about 1 m apart, which are about 2.5 M high. The two centre poles support a timber ring (about 1.5 M diameter.) This ring is toothed like a giant cog-wheel and into the gaps in the teeth are slotted supporting poles that angle out to the outer wall.

The outer wall is made of a continuous trellis –like lattice. Wrapped around the lattice, and over the roof poles, is laid a heavy layer (or  more likely several layers) of felt. Holding the felt in place is a heavy cotton ‘sleeve – the size of the Ger. Holding the sleeve in place are several wide straps like a couple of belts around a rotund father christmas. Inside, the floor consists of timber layed on the ground (which has been levelled ) and then covered with felt and finally some more timber sheeting. In the centre of the Ger, between those two poles is a coal-burning range, the flue of which sticks up through the roof. The walls are hung with curtain-like material.  And this is where everyone lives together for the Winter months. t it can be blowing a gale, and 20 C below, inside it is a quiet, cosy 25 C or more!

But there was so much about living in this place that gave pause for thought. I have talked before about contrasts, but these two days were just staggering. Consider: our host has a degree in Computer Science, and works in the IT section of the City Library. This is a man who is passionate about the Environment; about progress for his people, about the value of families, Education and so on. A man who has a passion for lifting the level, not just of his family, but his Country! And this is no idle dreamer: he has his feet on the ground and he is doing something about his passion. He is heavily involved in producing a newspaper designed to provoke awareness, the need for change, respect for the values of earlier generations, the need to care for the environment, how to budget, how to live sustainably. Oh his ideas and words just flow!

And what are the circumstances of this modest but passionate man? He lives in a Ger. No piped water to the house. Where does the water come from? He buys it from the water-station at  the bottom of the hill. Then he drags the barrel of water uphill on a trolly, with his wife pushing from behind, just about every day. Try that when it is 40 below and everything is iced up, as it is in mid winter. Power is trailed from somewhere on a thin cable and lights 2 bulbs hanging from the roof. But note – one of the bulbs is a power-saving mercury vapour bulb. He is checking to see if it is all that it is said to be. And I have told you about the toilet facilities. Next year he plans to dig a 2-person facility for more convenience for his . No shower, no bath not even a wash hand basin. Just a tap in one corner, a small tank above filled by hand and ladle. Get rid of waste water? carry it in a big basin down to the cess-pit next to the dunny. Or if the weather is bad, scuttle a few feet from the door and chuck it into a convenient gully. On a fine sunny day, the cow dung is drying nicely.

 The wife has collected it from their two cows (oh, didnt I tell you about the two cows they hace in a shed a couple of metres from the door?) 

 Today she can go over her collection carefully, seeing which are dry enough to use on the fire to supplemnt the coal. Does she see this as degrading? No – it’s a very practical example of sustainable living. In this house (Ger) nothing is wasted. All the vegetable peelings, leftovers from meals etc are fed to the cows, to supplement the fodder they have too buy during the winter months. Which reminds me – in the summer they take their cows up the the hills behind them, to graze on the lush grass.

We went for a walk up there the other day. Right now at the end of winter, the hillsides are literally bare rock and gravel. But we were assured that in a moths time the hills will be covered in green and there will be lots of grass for the cattle and for making hay. It appeasers that any one can take their cattle to graze there. Of course you cannot leave them unattended because they will be stolen.

So this is the life for this young couple and their four bright, intelligent kids. The Library computer technician has been overseas 4 times. He has seen how life is lived in the West. Is he envious or despondent about his lot? Not in the least! He is convinced that things will improve, and he is going to be part of the process. He believes that Mongolia has much to teach the West, and he is confident that the day will come

He also has a sense of humour! He confessed that he accepted Rachael’s requst to stay because ‘he wanted to see how manny could be squeezed into his GEr! There wre 6 of them and 11 of us – that made 17 of us laid out like sardines in a tin when we ‘went to bed’ Bed by the way, was your sleeping bag on thee floor.

His wife, by the way, had studied dress design and cooking at Tech college. How did she feel about grubbing around in sloppy sweater and gumboots, sorting the cow-dung? I had occasion to ask her if she was happy and she she replied with a quiet smile on her face, that she loved looking after her family. End of story.

the problem with this blogging business is that it tends to catch up on you – just take your mind off it and days have passed and before you know it, you have one of your daughters breathing down your neck, carping impatiently about the dearth of information.

Now what is more important or interesting? The bewildering traffic culture here, or a visit to the Terracotta Warriors? Or the walk to the playground yesterday to let the children let off steam\ ? (which proved to be a marathon walk with a fizzer of a playground)

I’m sure you like pictures so lets start off with a few from today’s visit to the buried warriors. Fascinating stuff:

some of the warriors looked almost human,,,,,

and there  as a small army on the move….

We were going to take buses out to the Warriors (an hour’s journey) but after bussing to the railway station to pick up the main bus, we  reached agreement with a guy to take us out there in a small coach. It turned out to be a good decision because the trip was quick, comfortable and very convenient. We collected an additional  member to our party as well: a girl from London just starting a year-long OE who has just travelled the route we will be taking in a weeks time. So RnR had a good opportunity to quiz her on a few travel details.

They bill this Terracotta warriors site as the eighth wonder of the world, and when you contemplate the sheer scope of the project, and the artistry involved, the claim has much in its favour. Apparently 720,000 people (slaves?) worked on the project for 40 years. In the meantime, the same Emperor had a small group building the Great Wall of China. There would not have been too many unemployed during his reign!

I should mention that apart from doing the tourist thing, we have been eating – in most un-touristy spots! We have had filled buns from a window in the wall; super-omelets wraps from another such window, dumplings and steamed pow from an assortment of scruffy looking dives, and marvelous fried noodles cooked in a giant wok over a roaring 40 gal drum, and eaten in a back-ally along with the local construction gang.! We have found a good place for dinner which is squeezed between a respectable cafe and a super=dooper restaurant. Ours is most uninviting from the outside, and not much better in – but the food is excellent. Tonight it was a bit full in the front seats so we had to squeeze past the chef and helpers to a few more tables crammed into a tiny back room.

But this Chinese traffic is unlike anything I have seen before.  Oh I am used to KL’s frantic multi-lane chaos, and Bangkok’s wild masses of cars, buses, Tuk-tuks , people and scooters, but China is something else again. Let me try and describe it: in this city of Xi’an there  are apparently 6 million people. The size geographically appears to be less than Auckland. The roads are good quality and come in a variety of widths and configurations. Main roads appear to have 2 or 3 lanes for each direction, with a sort of fence down the middle. Other roads are quite narrow, but often have an additional wide lane on either side, separated from the road by the footpath. One assumes these lanes are for scooters and bikes. Sounds good so far? In addition, at major, traffic-light-controlled intersections there will be two immaculate policemen (or women) with whistles, to assist direct the traffic. Plus quite often, guys with flags at the edges of pedestrian crossings. All of which, one might suppose, would lead to a smooth well-ordered traffic flow. There is only one snag – nobody drives with the slightest regard for any of the above. Admitted, larger vehicles stop for red lights, but everything else just weaves around them. Lights change, whistles shrill, arms wave and the traffic moves on regardless. Now thrown into this mix are a couple of other factors. Officially vehicles drive on the right hand side of the road; but there are seldom centre road markings, and everything uses as much of the road as is convenient.  until they meet something coming at them; scooters and bikes ride on any side and in the middle, in any direction at any time. Finally, many of the cars, scooters and yes bikes, are electric powered so they speed silently along the the streets like phantom destroyers. Woe to you to rely on sound for warning of something coming up behind you! Pedestrian crossings are used by pedestrians but ALL traffic just weaves its way through them. Why the streets are not littered with bodies I cannot fathom. Finally nobody keeps to a lane so the traffic is like a series of serpents  entwined, writhing in deadly combat as each vehicle tries to find the quickest flowing piece of action. And to be in a car that is cutting across 5 lanes of traffic in the space of about 200 meters is quite an experience.

But enough of that. This place is a most ancient walled city – and these walls are really walls! They must be around 10-15 m high and wide enough at the top to ride 6 abreast. We have walked around a few KM of the base and intend to take a look up top in the near future

………….back on a train today, Going from Shanghai to Xi’an.  In my recent posts I have waxed enthusiastic about Chinese trains and their rail systems. I have to modify that view a bit because we have been downgraded to an old model for this journey (starting at midday and arriving at 9.0 am tomorrow.) On the one hand it saves us accommodation for a night; on the other hand I know we are not going to get much sleep on this rinkle-chunkle old rattletrap. We thought we lacked a little privacy on the last sleeper: this one is totally open.

 Still 3-tier bunks facing each other, but of a special design devoid of any discreet paneling to afford some privacy. In fact I have renamed this train Stalag III because it is overseen by Frau Goebells –or the Chinese equivalent. She is our coach manager (I assume) and rules with a humourless rod of bamboo. She doesn’t like us opening the window, she doesn’t let us leave a lollipop on a plate for future consumption; she drags a filthy mop up the corridor and swishes it into our cubicle, scattering feet and boots willy nilly without a word, a smile or even a friendly snarl. The sleeper bunks are of the exposed variety so that Frau Goebells can see what we are up to at all times. We had a rubbish bin for our wrappers etc for the first part of the journey. She has wordlessly confiscated this, presumably to have the contents checked by headquarters before we disembark.

The train has a special way of stopping and we have worked out that they have a large bucket of rocks at the end of each carriage, which they toss under the wheels when ‘stabling’ is required.  (The toilets doors warn that ‘no occupying while stabling is allowed’)  In addition the hydraulic buffers between carriages have been, well, dispensed with so stopping entails violent grumblings followed by by violent bone jarring jerks. You know when you have stopped and are eternally thankful that you are still in one piece.

I’m writing about the process rather than the journey because frankly, the scenery,, what we could see of it through the thick hazy smog, has been forgettable.

As before, endless vistas of fields intermixed with crumbling dwellings, brickworks, huge motorway roads and flyovers, massive factory buildings, hundreds of identical high-rise apartment blocks, paddy fields, ponds of various sizes and stages of stagnation, and all covered in this weird thick haze which restricts visibility to about 1/2km maximum. The haze has got me bluffed. It smells like smog, it stings the eyes and tickles the throat – but smog for 100’s  of kilometers?

A final comment on our guard. My posting was brought to an abrupt end at this point last night when, without warning, all the lights were turned off! That was at 9.45pm!

Anyway, back to the people. The taxi driver who took  us to the station this morning could not have been more friendly. We had ordered two  taxis (why would you need more? there are only 11 of us with 13  backpacks and a large suitcase plus a stroller !) to be taken to the rail station this morning. Rob’s driver, however was distinctly ratty. Probably because  we had ordered the taxis for 12.30 and were running 5 mins late. Plus probably the fact that it takes about 10 mins to get everybody and their packs etc, squeezed into the taxi! However since the total taxi fare was only 21 Yuan and Rob gave him a 10Y tip he was finally happy as well’.

Our arrival in the city of X’i’an  caused the biggest stir yet. It is starting to get to me a little, this open curiosity as if we each had 3 legs and green beards or something. We were supposed to be met at the station by the Hostel people so of course we stood around outside the station looking hopeful. No sign of the pickup. So Rob digs out his laptop and looks up the phone number of the hostel and proceeds to ring them on his cellphone. The crowd that gathered during this 10 min exercise was unbelievable – at least 60 or so people crowding shoulder to shoulder peering over Robs shoulder to see what he was looking at on the laptop and relaying the information to the crowd.

as usual, as soon as I point the camera, they all pretend to be  doing something else! Its the sort of behavior you read about when Capt Cook first landed in the Tahiti, but it is not as if we are the first white people to have visited China. We can only put it down to the size of the family, which is verboten in China of course. I tried just looking directly into the eyes of the audience but they were immoveable. That is, until I got my camera out and started photographing them. Suddenly they find an interest in other things!

However the ordeal ended when Rob was asked by the hostel folk to catch 2 taxis because their van was elsewhere – fares to be refunded. The hostel is really excellent and is located right next to the ancient Walled City which is one of the things we came here to see,

We have been out for a stroll and ‘grazed’ (for lunch) on what looks like semi-glazed sweet pizza bases, buns filled with a variety of pickled veggies, chilly beans and other unknown ingredients, the steamed ‘pow’ both pork and beef filled, and exotic omelet/pancakes containing eggs, veggies, crispy pastry pieces etc.

 That lot from 4 different little shops cost us a total of around 29 Yuan  – about $NZ7. To feed 11 of us. Of course if we chose to go into a restaurant the cost would be a very different story!

Now we are back at base, having a rest before investigating a bit more.

well this was a fairly quiet day in the life of these vagabonds, and I thought it might interest a few of you to get my perspective on it.

Day starts about 7.30 – 8.00am, with sleepy bodies assembling in the largest room for breakfast. Often this is bread (no toasters where we stay!) with a variety of spreads such as vegemite (what will we do when our supplies run out?), lemon curd, honey, or peanut butter. This morning we had a change, with porridge and coconut yoghurt – very tasty.

After breakfast Rob leads the family in a morning devotional time. They have a folder full of memory verses, hymns and choruses. This morning the kids went through about 10 memory verses, sang afew hymns (Veta would have been so pl;eased!) and a few choruses, after which Rob reviewed the story of the Jews wanderings in the desert

Then a rough plan for the day is set out: today needs to be easy going because the younger ones are in need of a battery recharge. We had thought of going to the museum because Shanghai is reputed to have beauty, but we have done 2 museum-type things in the last few days, so reluctantly that idea is dropped and we settle for a walk down to the ‘Bund’ – the river-bank walk which apparently is not to be missed. We only have one full day here, so this will be IT for Shanghai.

Getting out of the guest house is delayed, because the clerks all want to stop us and admire the fair-haired kids. Picture of clerk with kids. Picture of clerk’s assistant with kids, then just as we are escaping, another gentleman turns up and decides he doesn’t  want to miss out, so picture of HIM with the kids! To their credit, the kids have learned to accept this carry-on quite philosophically – even Ella-Rose. So out of the door at last. On the other side of the road a vendor is  selling bamboo shoots: he has them neatly spread out on a sheet of newspaper on the edge of the road. He peels off the outer husks and gives them to a waiting customer

So we set out for the Bund- reputed ly about 1 1/2 km to get there and 1 1/2km long – a mere stroll for this lot. But a hazardous stroll. The traffic in this city is suicidal. There are pedestrian crossings and traffic lights just as you would expect to find in any well developed  city. The difference here is that everybody ignores them, and every body is in one heck of a hurry

(note the green cross now light!)

We admire the flower planters ingeniously incorporated into the bicycle racks, and observe the washing drying in the trees on the roadside (this is in the middle of the city, remember)

Yesterday we walked past a series  of very impressive music shops and we were serenaded by a jazz tenor sax player, then someone on a flute, an impressive recital by someone playing a sort of horizontal harp, and of course some piano. All in different shops.Finally up the steps

and onto the Bund itself: the wide river on one side, with an impressive display of futuristic buildings on the far bank, and on this side an equally impressive assortment of buildings both ancient and modern:

It was not long before (as usual)  someone found our group more interesting than the scenery, and the inevitable crowd gathers and the photo shoot takes place:

The river here is of course right at the sea and so large cruse liners are moored  a bit further down the Bund.  A floating restaurant cruises by reminding jus that we are hungry, and it’s time for lunch.

 So we head back towards our hostel and a little shop that sells delicious dumplings. We  go in and order umpteen steamer-trays of them, find they vanish quickly and order another round, But dumplings are not enough, so  now we head for an even smaller stall where we have discovered delicious steamed buns. We buy about 20 – 10 with pork and 10 with mixed veggies inside.

We head off to a nearby park and demolish the buns.  Some of the boys end up in animated conversation with some nearby ladies, then most of us (not me) try out the exercise equipment provided for ADULT use. (a fairly common sight in these parts)

So having eaten, all finish the walk to ‘home’, the littlies for a rest and me for a Tutorial from Rach on blogging etc. So a restful time until we head out for dinner tonight. Plates of fried rice and more plates of fried veggies. Very tasty!

ps you may have noticed the hazy look to the pics. This is smog which just hangs around permanently, it seems. Time to head for the open road!