[First published August 29,2014] After a very enjoyable hour winding our way through the large hills, or small mountains of Boshan, (the peaceful getaway that borders the city where we live,) our hosts for the weekend guided us down a very steep and unpaved single lane road to an outdoor restaurant under the trees. The tables were set up here and there beside the lake and the owners had even slung a few hammocks between the trees.
In this relaxing and quiet spot, we enjoyed another meal selected by our hosts who, as usual, refused to let us pay for anything: We had fish served three ways -- in soup, fried and poached with sauce, we had chicken, (in fact we witnessed the chicken's demise in the side yard and his reappearance 30 minutes later in a tureen of soup), tofu with a tangy chive sauce, various vegetables and sundry other dishes. (By sundry, of course, I mean "cicada." See my earlier post. "This is about bugs.") And this was lunch, remember. As usual, when we had sampled everything and could eat no more, the host asked if he should order more food -- (noodles? rice?).
In this relaxing and quiet spot, we enjoyed another meal selected by our hosts who, as usual, refused to let us pay for anything: We had fish served three ways -- in soup, fried and poached with sauce, we had chicken, (in fact we witnessed the chicken's demise in the side yard and his reappearance 30 minutes later in a tureen of soup), tofu with a tangy chive sauce, various vegetables and sundry other dishes. (By sundry, of course, I mean "cicada." See my earlier post. "This is about bugs.") And this was lunch, remember. As usual, when we had sampled everything and could eat no more, the host asked if he should order more food -- (noodles? rice?).
 Tranquility |  Winner, winner, chicken dinner |  Catch of the day |
And Ross got to go fishing! My incredibly thoughtful colleague had heard me mention Ross loved fishing and she arranged for her uncle, an expert fly fisherman, to join us. He and Ross spent the afternoon casting lines.
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I'll hand it over to Ross to explain the fishing: "They use a 4.5 to 5 meter long rod, almost like a fly rod. 'Uncle Joe' mixed up some stuff for bait that was the consistency of raw hamburger but made from ground plants and seeds. Every fisherman has his own recipe. He rigged up a rod for me that had a foot long strike indicator, long and skinny; if you put on too much bait on your hook the bobber sinks so you keep trying until you get it just right. The next hard part was getting the line out, without losing your bait. 'Uncle Joe' caught fish after fish while I struggled. It took a couple of hours but I started to get the hang of it."
My friend and I just relaxed and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the countryside, away from the traffic and noise of the city. (One quibble: the Chinese need a Lady Bird Johnson to make public littering unacceptable social behavior. I spent some time collecting discarded wrappers and plastic bottles off the beach). We admired the rock-skipping prowess of the young son of the couple who owned the restaurant. I never saw anyone skip a rock so high off the water. I was thinking that this is something kids do all around the world, and have done as long as there has been water, rocks and opposable thumbs. According to this Wikipedia article, there's a word for it in many, many different languages. And that's about the deepest thought I had all day -- this was really a day for unwinding and thinking about nothing! And then you realize, hey, when was the last time I was this completely relaxed and had nothing to do but pick bits of cicada wing out of my teeth?
We stayed at the restaurant for supper, which included leftovers from lunch, (more cicada, anyone?) plus 'Uncle Joe's' catch, I haven't mentioned that there was also a fair amount of toasting with beer and baiju. But we got back to the hotel safe and sound, after a wonderful day in the Chinese countryside.
My friend and I just relaxed and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the countryside, away from the traffic and noise of the city. (One quibble: the Chinese need a Lady Bird Johnson to make public littering unacceptable social behavior. I spent some time collecting discarded wrappers and plastic bottles off the beach). We admired the rock-skipping prowess of the young son of the couple who owned the restaurant. I never saw anyone skip a rock so high off the water. I was thinking that this is something kids do all around the world, and have done as long as there has been water, rocks and opposable thumbs. According to this Wikipedia article, there's a word for it in many, many different languages. And that's about the deepest thought I had all day -- this was really a day for unwinding and thinking about nothing! And then you realize, hey, when was the last time I was this completely relaxed and had nothing to do but pick bits of cicada wing out of my teeth?
We stayed at the restaurant for supper, which included leftovers from lunch, (more cicada, anyone?) plus 'Uncle Joe's' catch, I haven't mentioned that there was also a fair amount of toasting with beer and baiju. But we got back to the hotel safe and sound, after a wonderful day in the Chinese countryside.
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