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Just found a computer place in Nanning in southern China. Thought I'd send you a quick mess.
Thanks to all of you who've replied to my first attempts at mass communication. Some of you lucky ones didn't get my first letters because the file size was too large. I'm really new at this. Please forgive my errors. I'm gradually eradicating them.
Those of you who didn't get the picture of me in Hong Kong can find it at the following location on the internet, if you have the right softo (Japanese for software):
This is what I should have done in the first place. It comes courtesy of Mr Doug Blane who's a photo-journalist who took his bicycle around the Annapurna circuit in Nepal, and does know what he's doing. Thanks, Doug. Thanks still go to Simon Vale who took the photo. He also knows his onions. Blame me for the bad stuff. SORRY!
Eventually I will have a home page set up where, if you want to, you can access my writing as I pedal the planet. I'm also hoping that some of you will write some of your own bits and pieces for that. Some of you have made or are on long journeys (a loose definition). Other people will be interested. Samples of your writing could appear on the homepage, which could be like a shop window for those who want to go and buy your book in the shops. Or maybe you just want to encourage other people to go out there. Your ideas and advice would be most appreciated.
Last night I ate duck's feet and beak. Well, actually I could only consume the skin off the feet and the tongue from inside the beak. It could've been one of those instances of communication breakdown due to my poor grasp of the Chinese language, such as when I ordered sugar and was brought soup; or noodles instead of rice; said what I thought was Chinese for steamed bread but actually said newspaper; called my mother a horse, etc. etc. But in the main I've eradicated such horrors by entering the kitchens of eating establishments and pointing specifically at the food that I want most, or by showing the cook what I don't want, and then jesticulating exaggeratedly and making noises to imply the cooking method I desire. Aswell as being fairly effective, there's the added bonus of getting a laugh. No, these delicacies were my reward for lazily saying to my host, a Mr Li, "You choose," when invited to eat at his restaurant. And though I like to try the local cuisines on my way (even eating sparrow in Japan), I really did fumble in my attempts to be both complimentary and truthful. This was transparent to Mr Li, his sister and his girlfriend, but they were kind enough to not let me squirm too much.
Actually, since I wrote that a couple of days ago, I've had some of the best food I've had in China, at Mr Li's table. I wish you all could visit his Lucky restaurant.Gotta scoot.
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