When we arrive at the embarkation site we find at least 100 buses all lined up and parked, and literally thousands of Chinese and other Asians streaming through the turnstiles to get on another boat leaving earlier than ours.
Buses were just literally arriving one after the other stopping near where we were standing with a dozen or so other groups waiting patiently, and with people were everywhere it could only be described as organized chaos.
Someone obviously knew where everyone was supposed to go, and when it was our turn, we joined the queue. There were a lot of people in front of us, and a lot more behind, so I had to wonder just how big the boat was.
We soon found out.
And it was amusing to watch people running, yes, they were actually running, to get to the third level, or found available seating. Being around the first to board, we had no trouble finding a seat on the second level.
I was not quite sure what the name of the boat was, but it had 3 decks and VIP rooms and it was huge, with marble staircases, the sort you could make a grand entrance on. The last such ornate marble staircase we had seen was in a hotel in Hong Kong, and that was some staircase.
But who has marble staircases in a boat?
We’re going out across the water as far as the Bund and then turn around and come back about 30 to 40 minutes. By the time everyone was on board, there was no room left on the third level, no seats on the second level nor standing room at the end of the second level where the stairs up to the third level were.
No one wanted to pay the extra to go into the VIP lounge.
We were sitting by very large windows where it was warm enough watching the steady procession of the colored lights of other vessels, and outside the buildings.
It was quite spectacular, as were some of the other boats going out on the harbor.
All the buildings of the Bund were lit up
And along that part of the Bund was a number of old English style buildings made from sandstone, and very impressive to say the least.
On the other side of the harbour were the more modern buildings, including the communications tower, a rather impressive structure.
I had to go to the rear of the vessel to get a photo, a very difficult proposition given here was no space on the railing, not even on the stairs going up or down. It was just luck I managed to get some photos between passengers heads.
And, another view of that communications tower:
There was no doubt this was one of the most colourful night-time boat tours I’ve ever been on. Certainly, when we saw the same buildings the following day, they were not half as spectacular in daylight.
I never did get up to the third level to see what the view was like.
To be honest I didn’t think I’d get this far, because it takes a lot of effort to syphon time away from everything else I have on my plate.
I wish I was a full time writer.
That sounds like the title to a song, doesn’t it.
But, like everyone else who is trying to manage and juggle everything they have going on, I’m no worse of than just about ever other writer that’s not selling a million books a year.
That would be great, eh? A million books!
One day.
Maybe.
But, this story will continue after the end date, because I’ve made a promise that by the end of the year I would have at the very least a readable draft for them to read (and be critical).
Phew.
Time for some rest, and pick it up tomorrow.
For the record, todays effort produced 2,958 words, for a 30 day total of 78,488 words. That’s 57 chapters out of a planned 99.
This is in a very scenic area and on the first impression; it is absolutely stunning in concept and in viewing.
As for the idea of walking on it, well, that first view of the mountain climb when getting off the bus, my first question was where the elevator is? Sorry, there is none. It’s walk on up or stay down the bottom.
Walk it is. As far as you feel you are able. There are quite a few who don’t make it to the top. I didn’t. I only made it to the point where the steps narrowed.
But as for the logistics, there’s the gradual incline to the starting point, and what will be the end meeting place. From there, it’s a few steps up to the guard station no 7, and a few more to get up to the start of the main climb. The top of the wall is guard station no 12.
Ok, those first few steps are a good indication of what it’s was going to be like and it’s more the awkwardness of the uneven heights of the steps that’s the killer, some as high as about 15 inches. This photo paints an illusion, that it’s easy. It’s not.
If you make it to the first stage, then it augers well you will get about 100 steps before you both start feeling it in your legs, particularly the knees, and then suffering from the height if you have a problem with heights as the air is thinner. And if you have a thing with heights, never look down.
This was from where we stopped, about a third of the way up. The one below, from almost at the bottom. One we’re looking almost down on the buildings, the other, on the same level.
It requires rest before you come down, and that’s when you start to feel it in the knees, our tour guide called it jelly legs, but it’s more in the knees down. Descending should be slow, and it can be more difficult negotiating the odd height steps, and particularly those high ones. You definitely need to hang onto the rail, even try going backward.
And, no, that rail hasn’t been there as long as the wall.
While you are waiting for the guide to return to the meeting place at the appointed time, there should be time to have some jasmine tea. Highly refreshing after the climb.
I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t achieve what I set out to achieve.
Just not everything I intended to achieve.
But, that’s the nature of writing.
Of course, had I set my sights on a book that needed only 50,000+ words I would have completed the novel by now, and that is the case for the last three years.
This year I set out to push myself and finish a novel that I have been hunting and pecking over for two or three years. It needed something like a NaNoWriMo to screw up the courage to make an attempt to finish it.
At the outset I failed to realise the story was not going to fit in the constraints of 50,000 words. To be honest I had no idea how long it would be, but all I had to do was to let the story tell itself.
It did.
And I discovered the characters didn’t want to fit into a small box, they wanted to grow, they wanted to change, each following a path they never expected to follow.
And I’ve been with them, and they still have a ways to go.
Tomorrow will not be the end of their story.
For the bean counters, todays word count is a little less than the last few days, some 2,641 words, for a running total of 75,530 words.
This is going to be some story when it’s finished!
West Lake is a freshwater lake in Hangzhou, China. It is divided into five sections by three causeways. There are numerous temples, pagodas, gardens, and artificial islands within the lake.
Measuring 3.2 kilometers (2 miles) in length, 2.8 kilometers (1.7 miles) in width, and 2.3 meters (7.5 feet) in average depth, the lake spreads itself in an area totaling 6.5 square kilometers (2.5 square miles).
The earliest recorded name for West Lake was the “Wu Forest River”, but over time it changed to two distinct names. One is “Qiantang Lake”, due to the fact that Hangzhou was called “Qiantang” in ancient times. The other, “West Lake”, due to the lake being west of the city
It’s about to get busy, with a number of activities planned, and the warmth of the day is starting to make an impact.
The tour starts in the car park about a kilometer away, but the moment we left the car park we were getting a taste of the park walking along a tree-lined avenue.
When we cross the road, once again dicing with death with the silent assassins on motor scooters.
We are in the park proper, and it is magnificent, with flowers, mostly at the start hydrangeas and then any number of other trees and shrubs, some carved into other flower shapes like a lotus.
Then there was the lake and the backdrop of bridges and walkways.
.
And if you can tune out the background white noise the place would be great for serenity and relaxation.
That, in fact, was how the boat ride panned out, about half an hour or more gliding across the lake in an almost silent boat, by an open window, with the air and the majestic scenery.
No, not that boat, which would be great to have lunch on while cruising, but the boat below:
Not quite in the same class, but all the same, very easy to tune out and soak it in.
It was peaceful, amazingly quiet, on a summery day
A pagoda in the hazy distance, an island we were about to circumnavigate.
Of all the legends, the most touching one is the love story between Bai Suzhen and Xu Xi’an. Bai Suzhen was a white snake spirit and Xu Xi’an was a mortal man.
They fell in love when they first met on a boat on the West Lake, and got married very soon after.
However, the evil monk Fa Hai attempted to separate the couple by imprisoning Xu Xi’an. Bai Suzhen fought against Fa Hai and tried her best to rescue her husband, but she failed and was imprisoned under the Leifeng Pagoda by the lake.
Years later the couple was rescued by Xiao Qing, the sister of Baisuzhen, and from then on, Bai Suzhen and Xu Xi’an lived together happily.
The retelling of the story varied between tour guides, and on the cruise boat, we had two. Our guide kept to the legend, the other tour guide had a different ending.
Suffice to say it had relevance to the two pagodas on the far side of the lake.
There was a cafe or restaurant on the island, but that was not our lunch destination.
Nor were the buildings further along from where we disembarked.
All in all the whole cruise took about 45 minutes and was an interesting break from the hectic nature of the tour.
Oh yes, and the boat captain had postcards for sale. We didn’t buy any.
Lunch
At the disembarkation point there was a mall that sold souvenirs and had a few ‘fast food’ shops, and a KFC, not exactly what we came to China for, but it seemed like the only place in town a food cautious Australian could eat at.
And when tried to get in the door, that’s where at least 3 busloads were, if they were not in the local Starbucks. Apparently, these were the places of first choice wherever we went.
The chicken supply by the time we got to the head of the line amounted to pieces at 22.5 RMB a piece and nuggets. Everything else had run out, and for me, there were only 5 pieces left. Good thing there were chips.
And Starbucks with coffee and cheesecake.
At least the setting for what could have been a picnic lunch was idyllic.
In a mad rush to get the story finished, but that now won’t happen in the time frame.
I’m in the middle of the quest to recover the artifacts, and Marigold has so much more to learn about the realm and herself.
And I’ve notice a little of what’s happening in our world here is creeping into the story, and it seems to me that we never seem to learn from our mistakes.
Our leaders, that is. Given a chance to make a real change after a one in a hundred year event, they’re ignoring the possibilities, and trying to consolidate or improve their power over the people.
But I digress…
Some of my disappointment is spilling over, and I’ll to be careful to keep it out.
In my stories, there’s always a happy ending.
For the bean counters, todays word count is 3,226 words, not much less than yeaterday, for a running total of 72,839.
I suspect this story is not going to come out under 120,000, until the first edit of course.
I guess quite a few of us on this journey would be saying the same thing.
Trying to fully devote yourself each and every day for as long as you can write might seem quite simple, like a mechanic can repairing engines, like an accountant poring over the accounts.
Well, it’s not that simple.
For starters you have to have a continuous train of thought, pushing the plotline along, not just for the one or two or three thousand words that are required as a bare minimum each day, but carry that forth over the thirty days of the month, leading to fifty, sixth or ninety thousand words of coherent story.
Most writers take a year, sometimes more to get that total.
They often write, two, three, four hundred words in a session, perhaps over a day, or several.
I’m amazed that my total so far is very close to seventy thousand words. That’s nearly a novel and a half.
But, it’s not going to be the whole novel when the thirty days are up.
Enough lamenting….
For the statisticians, todays count was 3,242 words for a running total of 69,613.
The Kingston Flyer was a vintage train that ran about 14km to Fairlight from Kingston, at the southern end of Lake Wakatipu, and back.
This tourist service was suspended in December 2012 because of locomotive issues.
However, before that, we managed to go on one of the tours, and it was a memorable trip. Trying to drink a cup of tea from the restaurant car was very difficult, given how much the carriages moved around on the tracks.
The original Kingston Flyer ran between Kingston, Gore, Invercargill, and sometimes Dunedin, from the 1890s through to 1957.
There are two steam locomotives used for the Kingston Flyer service, the AB778 starting service in 1925, and the AB795 which started service in 1927.
The AB class locomotive was a 4-6-2 Pacific steam locomotive with a Vanderbilt tender, of which 141 were built between 1915 and 1927 some of which by New Zealand Railways Addington Workshops.
No 235 is the builder’s number for the AB778
There were seven wooden bodied passenger carriages, three passenger coaches, one passenger/refreshments carriage and two car/vans. The is also a Birdcage gallery coach. Each of the rolling stock was built between 1900 and 1923. They were built at either of Addington, Petone, or Hillside.
I suspect the 2 on the side means second class
The passenger coach we traveled in was very comfortable.
This is one of the guard’s vans, and for transporting cargo.
The Kingston Railway Station
and cafe.
A poster sign advertising the Kingston Flyer
The running times for the tourist services, when it was running.
A good day perhaps, for writing. I’m further advanced, but I don’t feel like I’m getting to where I need to be.
I guess it’s ‘welcome to the world of writing’.
Some stories can be written in 30 days. I’ve done it myself three years running.
But, taking on a more complex writing project, not that I thought it would be at the time, has taught me to respect an old adage my father used a lot, a long time ago:
Rome wasn’t built in a day
It’s not the only one he used, but it’s the one I remember.
This project will take more than thirty days. I often wondered why some writers took years to finish a book, and now I know definitively why.
Next year I’ll take on something a little lighter in subject matter, plan for the fifty or chapters, and get it done.
This is one that I should have tackled within the other eleven months.
Still, four days to go, and anything can happen!
For the statisticians, todays word count is 3,074, for a running total of 66,371. That, in itself, is a lot of words.
