After Mr Feng's lunch, which I couldn't eat, Sophia and I went for a wander in the nearby old Italian concession. We sat under an awning of an Italian restaurant, complete with trees in pots and red-checked tablecloths, and Domingo singing his heart out, looking out onto a very ugly modern municipal building (but never mind). The Chinese waiter spoke good English, and they do like to practise. The Italian menu looked tempting even though I don't really like Tiramisu ...
Sophia, her mother and I had been to Tianjin's museum a few days previously. I had been taken in hand by Sophia's 4yr old cousin, Ji Ji, who recognised instantly that I couldn't join in adult conversations. Therefore she became my tour guide, leading me carefully down steps, warning me of slopes and slippery bits, and leading me to the various exhibits, some of which were in cases too high for her to see into. I was flagging after a couple of hours, we all were, and this little friend kept going, and kept me going until we escaped for tea, but ended up in Mc Donald's. She chomped her way through nuggets, chips, chocolate ice cream (which she spoon fed me like a nanny), sachets of ketchup (sucked, and thankfully didn't offer me any), and drank the sweet and sour sauce straight from its plastic pot. Not in any order, of course, but in true Chinese style; a bit of chocolate sauce, a chip, ice cream, nugget ...
That evening (24th Oct), we'd been home about an hour when an uncle and aunt arrived in their car and we all, plus Sophia's father, went off to the other side of the river, opposite the city rail station (there are 2 others). Ji Ji came too. The fog lent an almost Dickensian air, but suddenly relocated to this extraordinary place. A village-sized area had been built in a year. Huge Italianate buildings soared above us, all lit, and judging by the empty plinths and alcoves, ready for a contingent of gods and goddesses to be delivered. It looked so new that only a handful of shops and estate agents were open for business, but when the rest arrive it will be a huge plaza, well 3. The buildings surround 3 of them and will house very expensive shops. As we ambled about, along with hundreds of others on that balmy evening, I turned a corner and burst out laughing. There was a pastiche of the Bridge of Sighs! It was a walkway linking 2 buildings. I was about to tell Sophia how funny this was when I saw another one. 2 Bridges of Sighs! Beat that, Venice! When we'd all got the joke, Sophia's mother said, "Oh well, but of couse, we can build eight of them if we want to!!"
Sophia, her mother and I had been to Tianjin's museum a few days previously. I had been taken in hand by Sophia's 4yr old cousin, Ji Ji, who recognised instantly that I couldn't join in adult conversations. Therefore she became my tour guide, leading me carefully down steps, warning me of slopes and slippery bits, and leading me to the various exhibits, some of which were in cases too high for her to see into. I was flagging after a couple of hours, we all were, and this little friend kept going, and kept me going until we escaped for tea, but ended up in Mc Donald's. She chomped her way through nuggets, chips, chocolate ice cream (which she spoon fed me like a nanny), sachets of ketchup (sucked, and thankfully didn't offer me any), and drank the sweet and sour sauce straight from its plastic pot. Not in any order, of course, but in true Chinese style; a bit of chocolate sauce, a chip, ice cream, nugget ...
That evening (24th Oct), we'd been home about an hour when an uncle and aunt arrived in their car and we all, plus Sophia's father, went off to the other side of the river, opposite the city rail station (there are 2 others). Ji Ji came too. The fog lent an almost Dickensian air, but suddenly relocated to this extraordinary place. A village-sized area had been built in a year. Huge Italianate buildings soared above us, all lit, and judging by the empty plinths and alcoves, ready for a contingent of gods and goddesses to be delivered. It looked so new that only a handful of shops and estate agents were open for business, but when the rest arrive it will be a huge plaza, well 3. The buildings surround 3 of them and will house very expensive shops. As we ambled about, along with hundreds of others on that balmy evening, I turned a corner and burst out laughing. There was a pastiche of the Bridge of Sighs! It was a walkway linking 2 buildings. I was about to tell Sophia how funny this was when I saw another one. 2 Bridges of Sighs! Beat that, Venice! When we'd all got the joke, Sophia's mother said, "Oh well, but of couse, we can build eight of them if we want to!!"
On the way back to the river Sophia and I bought a red paper lantern each (30p). We lit the firelighter/candle in mine first, as I made my wish (that bit was easy), all holding the lantern until the hot air lifted it up, but we were near the buildings with a large skyscraper behind so the ascent was shakey.Would it make it? Or would my dream come crashing down? Oh no! I was standing in front of everyone and was mimicking blowing at it and flapping my hands. I turned round to encourage the others to do the same, and there was a crowd of Chinese people standing, blowing and flapping their hands! On my behalf! They all laughed and beamed and nodded. I turned back to look up, and there it was, my lantern, soaring up the side of the skyscraper, to the top, where it burned out. Well, that'll do me...
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