Coming back here I realise how seriously cool this town is. As I’ve travelled around China over the last (nearly) four months I’ve noticed how, like any other country, stepping off the tourist trail a mile or two gets you right into a different place. In Shanghai, wander a block or two from the fancy restaurants and Aston Martin dealerships and you’ll find goats being butchered on the pavement just like you would in Xuyi.

I have been thinking that I was done with China. But strolling around in the Shanghai sun today I cast my mind back to when I was here in August, overawed by the crowds and the scale and the, well, “differentness” of the place – and I now see so much more detail. In fact, I reckon I could come back here some time. Not to the provinces – it’s just too bloody ugly, to be frank – but I’ve got a little travel plan forming in my head which would involve a few places I’ve been on this trip and a couple of new ones.

Anyone keen?

Setting aside the several innacuracies in the description on the website, my travelling companion and I had rather an entertaining time. There are indeed only 17 rooms, so the word “boutique” would be apt – if they’d used it. The hotel is located about the same distance from Huzhou as my property is from Carterton (not that I’d compare those two places) and is therefore more in ‘outer suburb/lifestyle block’ territory than real rural, but is part of a little farm producing food for the restaurant and, I guess, other outlets. Veges, fruit trees, ducks, chooks, pigs and horses (yes, ‘fraid so) are all in abundance. There’s a wind turbine on top of the hill, a treatment plant at the bottom, a lake stocked with fish and nice clean air. You can even see stars at night! And the building in the village is definitely a notch or two up from standard farmer housing.

As always when you venture a few metres off the tourist trail in this country, language was an issue. Most of the time we had no idea what was going on, but for some reason the desk guy ‘Jack’ and the bloke who turned out to be the owner but who we thought was the driver, Mr Li, had us marked as a special project. Nothing was too much trouble, including an all-day personal tour of the city and surrounds during which Mr Li recruited an English speaking guide by literally parking up at the local university and tracking down an English major. (‘Loyal’ was a delight and had better English than most of the teachers here at school, but she needs to change her English name). Food was pretty standard local fare at reasonable hotel prices – menu totally in Chinese of course – and the beer warm and wine overpriced, as ever.

In the very little information about the Golden Grove available on the web, mention is made of “Australian investment” which might lead you to believe that there’d be more ‘western’ to the place than an English name, house-branded Aussie shiraz, and dining rooms called ‘Adelaide’ and ‘Darwin’. Nope – Mr Li’s brother has emigrated to Perth. But hell, for 30 bucks kiwi per room per night including all transfers and room service breakfast, who’s complaining?

My visa runs out on the 15th of December. My original 3-month ‘double entry’ visa was extended for a month without having to do the re-entry bit to get another 3 months, but the local officials made it clear that that would only happen once. The school generously offered to fly me to Macau or somewhere to get me through to when we finish teaching at Christmas, but also offered me the option of leaving early. After a bit of deliberation I chose the latter.

If you’ve been following this blog you might be surprised to learn that it wasn’t an easy decision. After three months living in Xuyi I’ve got over the hump and, while about a week at a time is enough, I’ve become quite happy here. It really is a bit of a ‘nothing’ place – nothing much to eat, nothing much to drink and nothing much to do – but the less I’ve have to worry about the boring stuff like finding my way back from the supermarket, the more I’ve noticed and appreciated the everyday little things that make a community. Like the “gam bei!” from the blokes at the next table. Or the laughter from the lady in the ticket office when we finally figured out which bus I needed to take.

I took a walk up to the Temple the other day and then stopped in at the market on the way back. While the city looked bigger and bleaker than I imagined from on top of the hill, the market seemed fuller of life and colour. I’d never really noticed that before – I was too busy trying to find what I wanted and attempting not to bump into anyone. Now I sort-of know where to find stuff and I figure no-one’s worried about bumping in to me so why bother myself?

I’m almost tempted to say that I might – might! – miss this funny little place. Maybe.

Apparently the Huaihe River was formed about three hundred years ago when the Yellow River took an unexpected turn, wiping out this city which was then called Sizhou. It briefly became known as the ‘Pompei of China’ but there is very little evidence of previous inhabitants as you travel about town.

Off the main branch of the river is series of canals populated by floating homes. I love the solar water heaters attached to the roofs!

Yangshuo is a small, southern town on the banks of the Li River, a short distance from the city of Guilin. It was one of the first places in China to attract travellers, mainly for its amazing scenery but also for the rock-climbing opportunities on the karst formations. A laid-back backpacker vibe still permeates the riverside part of town, with most of the Chinese tourists staying on the outskirts or in Guilin and bussing in and out for the sightseeing. Touristy it certainly is, but that goes with the territory when you’re in a place so attractive.

Three days in the warmth of the south, some good western-style cafe food, a good dose of English speakers and I Hate China has been replaced with, well, I Can Tolerate a Bit More China.

Hefei is the capital of Anhui province and its industry and population have mushroomed over the last few years. It is now home to about 6 million people. It is easily the most miserable place I’ve visited in China. To be fair, it was raining on-and-off both days we were there, but that’s no excuse for the smog and the squalor. It set me off on an “I hate China” week.

One oasis in the middle of the madness was the delightful little Shipyard Cafe, run by a charming Englishman and his Chinese interior designer wife. It looks a bit ropey in the photograph, all shuttered up – we had to wait for it to open – but it’s a great spot and I think the only foreign-run establishment in the city. Steak & chips and a drop of French burgundy was like a gift from the gods – I certainly wasn’t keen on eating anywhere else in town.

Qingdao is also unbelievably smoggy. You’d think being on the coast that all the crap in the air would get flushed out, but seemingly not so. It’s a shame because it’s quite a nice town and, as well as the seafront, it has some rather impressive mountains as a backdrop. It’s a favourite summer spot for holidaying Chinese and it’s set up with all the gaudy tourist attractions you could imagine including a Seaworld with dolphins and polar bears.

An interesting aspect of Chinese culture is that when a couple gets married, they have their wedding photographs taken weeks, sometimes months, before the ceremony itself. A popular photo location in Qindao is the square in front of the old(ish) German Catholic church and on a sunny day you will see literally dozens of ‘brides’ and ‘grooms’, all in hired outfits with their jeans and sneakers on underneath, posing for the pony-tailed photographers.

On the last day I was there I got a Facebook message from an old Colenso colleague which mentioned that a woman we used to work with was living somewhere in China. A quick Google and I discovered that, amazingly, Jan was in Qingdao and, even more amazingly, she got my email during the day and we were able to meet up for a drink and dinner. It really is a small world.

Best dish in town? Hands down, the pork wonton soup on the green tartan table. It’s the only dish they do in this little restaurant down by the lake. Choose from a 4, 5 or 6 yuan bowl (5 yuan to a dollar), add some sweet vingar and a bit of chilli and be transported to, well, China.