A fine day, on this trip a rarity, we decided to take the train to Windsor and see the castle.
This is a real castle, and still in one piece, unlike a lot of castles.
Were we hoping to see the Queen, no, it was highly unlikely.
But there were a lot of planes flying overhead into Heathrow. The wind must have been blowing the wrong day, and I’m sure, with one passing over every few minutes, it must annoy the Queen if she was looking for peace and quiet.
Good thing then, when it was built, it was an ideal spot, and not under the landing path. I guess it was hard to predict what would happen 500 years in the future!
I’m not sure if this was the front gate or back gate, but I was wary of any stray arrows coming out of those slits either side of the entrance.
You just never know!
An excellent lawn for croquet. This, I think, is the doorway, on the left, where dignitaries arrive by car. The private apartments are across the back.
The visitor’s apartments. Not sure who that is on the horse.
St George’s Chapel. It’s a magnificent church for a private castle. It’s been very busy the last few months with Royal weddings.
The Round Tower, or the Keep. It is the castle’s centerpiece. Below it is the gardens.
Those stairs are not for the faint-hearted, nor the Queen I suspect. But I think quite a few royal children and their friends have been up and down them a few times.
Just what everyone needs in their backyard: A Gazebo, or a small bandstand!
Often when we go to different places, it gives us ideas, sometimes ideas beyond what is possible.
I have always wanted a gazebo, perhaps not on the same grand scale as the one above, but one where we can put a BBQ and a few seats, and relax on a sunny afternoon.
Shade, a cool breeze, a cold glass of wine or beer, and the aroma of meat cooking on an open flame.
But…
Reality sets in. The backyard isn’t big enough, so my dream will stay just that.
But I will frame the photograph and put it in my office as a reminder that one day, maybe, it might be possible.
Just what everyone needs in their backyard: A Gazebo, or a small bandstand!
Often when we go to different places, it gives us ideas, sometimes ideas beyond what is possible.
I have always wanted a gazebo, perhaps not on the same grand scale as the one above, but one where we can put a BBQ and a few seats, and relax on a sunny afternoon.
Shade, a cool breeze, a cold glass of wine or beer, and the aroma of meat cooking on an open flame.
But…
Reality sets in. The backyard isn’t big enough, so my dream will stay just that.
But I will frame the photograph and put it in my office as a reminder that one day, maybe, it might be possible.
Like everything my parents had thrown at me over the years, nothing was worse than to get a piece of paper handed to me as I walked out the door; to a meeting, a date, school, even when I visited my grandmother.
They were the ‘do’s and dont’s’ lists, which over time became the ‘young man’s guide to better English and speaking properly’.
The truth was, my mother never trusted me to get it right.
It was not without reason. Very early on I got a reputation for being a bit of a maverick, saying what I thought rather than what was diplomatic, or just the right thing to say.
To a certain extent, I learned a great deal from these notes.
But the biggest surprise was my 18th birthday, and the day of the party being held at the manor house, and where I would be mingling with the gentry, and other distinguished guests. I didn’t get a list.
I suppose I panicked.
Helen, the older sister who was wise beyond her years, an ace at diplomacy, and not one to ever ‘speak her mind’ dropped in to see how I was going.
Not very good. No list, no prompts, no ‘how to behave at [named] occasion.
“What’s up, little brother?” she could see I was agitated, though her word would be non-plussed.
“No do’s and don’ts. What’s mother up to? Does she want this party to go south by southwest?”
“Maybe she finally has faith in you. You’re 18 now. I have faith in you.”
“But you know me, foot in mouth disease.”
“Once, but not anymore. Now screw your courage to the sticking point and let’s make an entrance. If all else fails, just remember to stick to two subjects, their health, and the weather.”
No chance of backing out now. The escape route had been effectively closed off. I took a deep breath.
What was it I’d overheard not fifteen minutes ago? Oh, yes. ‘There’s a first time for everything’.
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.
I’m back to writing, sitting at the desk, pad in front of me, pen in hand.
The only thing lacking, an idea.
It’s 9:03 am, too early to start on a six-pack.
To be honest, the last thing I needed was a distraction, and, having forgotten to put my cell phone on silent, it starts buzzing, indicating there are new messages, or notifications from all those social media sites like Twitter, Facebook, WordPress, Blogger…
Then the advice from all the so-called marketing gurus starts to swirl around in my head, and instead of writing, I’m now fretting over my social media presence.
The more I read the more it bothers me that if I don’t have the right social media presence if I do not start to build an email list, all of my efforts in writing a book will come to naught.
That’s when I start trawling the internet for information on marketing and found a plethora of people offering any amount of advice for anything between a ‘small amount’ to a rather large amount that gives comprehensive coverage of most social media platforms for periods of a day, a week or a month.
I move on to the people who offer advice for a cost on how to build a following, how to build a web presence, how to get a thousand Twitter followers, how to get thousands of email followers before the launch.
The trouble is I’m writing a novel, not a nonfiction book, or have some marvelous 30-page ebook on how to do something, for free just to drive people to my site.
I’m a novelist, not a handyman so those ideas while good is not going to help me.
Yet another problem to wrestle with along with actually creating a product to sell in the first place.
Except I’m supposed to be writing for the love of it without the premeditated idea of writing for gain or getting rich quick.
What am I missing here?
So should l be writing short stories and offering them for free to drive people to my site? These would have to be genre-specific so it needs time and effort and fit into a convenient size story that will highlight or showcase my talent.
Some time ago I created a website on one of those so-called free sites, but it’s rather basic and not great. Of course, if I want it to be better, all I have to do is hand over a great wad of money I don’t have to make it better. So much for free!
I don’t think I will have a good night’s sleep again with all of these social media problems I’m having.
Oh well, back to the book. It’s time to have a nightmare of a different sort!
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.
I’m back to writing, sitting at the desk, pad in front of me, pen in hand.
The only thing lacking, an idea.
It’s 9:03 am, too early to start on a six-pack.
To be honest, the last thing I needed was a distraction, and, having forgotten to put my cell phone on silent, it starts buzzing, indicating there are new messages, or notifications from all those social media sites like Twitter, Facebook, WordPress, Blogger…
Then the advice from all the so-called marketing gurus starts to swirl around in my head, and instead of writing, I’m now fretting over my social media presence.
The more I read the more it bothers me that if I don’t have the right social media presence if I do not start to build an email list, all of my efforts in writing a book will come to naught.
That’s when I start trawling the internet for information on marketing and found a plethora of people offering any amount of advice for anything between a ‘small amount’ to a rather large amount that gives comprehensive coverage of most social media platforms for periods of a day, a week or a month.
I move on to the people who offer advice for a cost on how to build a following, how to build a web presence, how to get a thousand Twitter followers, how to get thousands of email followers before the launch.
The trouble is I’m writing a novel, not a nonfiction book, or have some marvelous 30-page ebook on how to do something, for free just to drive people to my site.
I’m a novelist, not a handyman so those ideas while good is not going to help me.
Yet another problem to wrestle with along with actually creating a product to sell in the first place.
Except I’m supposed to be writing for the love of it without the premeditated idea of writing for gain or getting rich quick.
What am I missing here?
So should l be writing short stories and offering them for free to drive people to my site? These would have to be genre-specific so it needs time and effort and fit into a convenient size story that will highlight or showcase my talent.
Some time ago I created a website on one of those so-called free sites, but it’s rather basic and not great. Of course, if I want it to be better, all I have to do is hand over a great wad of money I don’t have to make it better. So much for free!
I don’t think I will have a good night’s sleep again with all of these social media problems I’m having.
Oh well, back to the book. It’s time to have a nightmare of a different sort!
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.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 