 News of Shanghai's Bird Flu virus is all over the internet. | I texted my boss that morning telling her that I was too poorly to come into teach as I had a high fever, a runny nose and was feeling nauseous. She immediately responded, “…go to the hospital. You know in Shanghai we have bird flu now…”. I wave of panic came over me. Sure enough, looking up the symptoms online I ticked all the boxes.
It’s not been a good year so far in terms of food safety in China. First things kicked off with the catastrophe of Biblical proportions where thousands of dead pig carcasses were being hauled out of Shanghai’s Huang Pu river (a source of drinking water of the city).
| Then followed the mysterious appearance of more than a 1,000 dead ducks found in a river in China’s Sichuan province. Shanghai and its neighbouring areas got another hit by falling prey to a newly discovered strain of Bird Flu – H7N9 which, at the time of writing, has claimed 9 lives out of 33 people so far detected with the disease. | I decided to put positive thinking into practise by telling myself that in a few hours I would be fine. On the contrary, despite having slept the whole afternoon, drank loads of warm lemon water with honey, I was feeling progressively worse. From our bed, I feebly called out to Lezil asking her if we could go to the hospital to get to the bottom of this sickness. It was a short 10 minute taxi ride to Ruijin Hospital – widely seen as Shanghai’s best. They do have a foreign section but at an overly priced premium. We had already registered as patients before, so it was pretty straight forward using the local facilities. |  Grabbing a taxi to Ruijin Hospital.
|  Giving the hospital receptionist my phone for help with translation! | Unfortunately my Chinese vocab doesn’t quite extend to explaining specific medical symptoms.
Upon entering the emergency reception area, the place wasn’t overly busy. All around were warning signs for the H7N9 virus and how best to prevent catching it. The old lady on the desk spoke zero English and all I could say in the Chinese was that I was sick and then I pointed at the Bird Flu poster. | | She must have thought I was mad. I called up my boss (who kindly offered to help translated if I needed it). Handing the phone over, the masked-receptionist chatted for a few moments ending her conversation with “Wo ming bai le…” (Oh, I see….). I got handed a thermometer and was told to keep it in my mouth for 3 minutes. My boss was still on the other end as I got the low down on what would happen next.
Hanging up I returned to the reception desk and handed back the thermometer. It read 37C – normal. So far, so good. But I still felt very weak and had the sensation of wanting to throw up.
She booked me in with the doctor for a closer look. Unlike some previous experiences in emergency section of British hospitals, here I was seen to very quickly. |  Themometer in my mouth and the phone in my hand speaking to my boss. |  Awaiting my turn to see the emergency doctor, along with all the other patients in the same room. | A brief check of my breathing with a stethoscope the doctor on duty asked that I go for a blood test.
Again, it was a speedy process and I literally waited no more than 20 minutes to get the results back. Various components showed that I had a very high cell count which, the doctor, later told me that I did indeed have a virus but that thankfully it was not of the H7N9 variety.
Phew! I came away with a couple of packets of antibiotics to take over the next few days. Job done. | | Yes, this may come across as being overly cautious, but when you are in close proximity with people who tend to not cover their mouths when they cough or sneeze (especially not nice in a packed metro train) – it’s definitely better to be safe than sorry. Shanghai’s municipalities have shut down the trade of all live poultry until the virus is contained. Over 110,000 chickens so far have been culled and the streets around where we live – the giant bird cages are uncharacteristically empty.
According to a local newspaper, Shanghai gets through around 130 million birds a year (that’s just ONE city). Times that by the countless other mega-to-medium sized Chinese urban sprawls and you do wonder how the demand for meat is being kept up in a safe and sanitary way fit for human consumption.
|  Getting a blood test done. | It’s enough to turn you into a vegetarian, but even there – again issues have been exposed concerning growing and preservation methods for fruit and vegetables. No more meat? Maybe.  Taking my temperature as I stand by a big warning sign on the latest virus strain of bird flu to break out - H7N9.
As the climate in Shanghai is still deciding on whether to bring us spring or stay a little longer in winter, we decided to gamble by rolling up our sleeves and getting some dirt under our finger nails. I told Lezil that I have this idealistic dream of having a vegetable patch and some farm animals for a more sustainable lifestyle.
Negotiating the best price for our veg-growing goodies!
| The livestock is still a long way off (Winnie our cat doesn’t count!) and the communal garden we share with three other floors in our old lane house is in a sorry state. Therefore starting simply is always the best. A few stops due east from our home on line 10 was Laoximen metro station and from there it was a 10 minute walk to the pet and flower market. I had cooked up a plan to grow our own veggies using the fairly large window ledges we have outside both our sitting room and bedroom windows.
| | It was frantic business that Saturday afternoon as I haggled for the best deals on two troughs, some quality fertilised soil, a spade and the all-essential seeds for growing the vegetables themselves. The pet outlets outnumbered the plant ones with every imaginable animal sound ringing in our ears. For a rock-bottom final price of RMB 100 (£10) I had all the items we needed to start our journey on harvesting a healthy batch of tomatoes, spring onions and chillies. We use these practically every day in our cooking, so it made sense to then try and produce our own supply.
Just before leaving we picked up an already growing herb plant, rosemary, to add to our mint plant we had purchased the week before. Both are now innovatively hanging from our outdoor clothes rail.
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Wrapping up the deal as our items are packed for us.
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Ready to start planting our veg garden.
| Back at home, we used our lane’s driveway to start preparing the troughs with soil and watering them sufficiently ready for seed planting. Our downstairs neighbour came out to watch us tenderly prepare everything as he amused himself over the two foreigners working their green fingers with enthusiasm. He was asking us where we planned to grow the veggies to which I told him our harebrained idea of window ledge planting. He seemed pretty impressed with our home project. | | It seemed like our prolonged presence out front was attracting not only our neighbours but our fruit lady’s cat. She runs her stall right next door to our apartment and we had spotted her cat playing with Winnie a few times before. Unofficially christening her ‘Amarula’, after the famed South African cream liqueur, she was a right little inquisitive feline. She didn’t hesitate on jumping up on our laps. Then she took a liking to our watering can, feverishly lapping up the water before startling herself by tipping it over. We had brought some fish treats for cats courtesy of Lezil’s mum in Australia which, strangely enough, Amarula wasn’t sure to make of.
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Amarula the cat drinking from our watering can!
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Seeds for spring onions.
| She was more interested in sniffing the titbit than actually eating it. Under Amarula’s playful gaze we completed the final stages of our mini veg garden by planting the seeds. The packet instructions were all in Chinese characters which made it tough going. So a quick spin on the internet and we had some good tips on how best to nurture our plants-to-be. A quick pat down of the soil and a final light-watering and we took our two heavy troughs back into our apartment to their new window ledge homes.
Thankfully both our rooms are south-facing and receive sun practically all day long which is perfect to kick start the seedlings growth. This was our very first attempt at home-grown produce. Already the following morning I longing looked over the tops of the troughs naively hoping to see some green shoots coming through. I can’t wait to see the first signs of a sprouting plant and trust me, there will be periodic blog updates on how our little babies are doing.
| | Scrubbing ourselves clean back to city dwellers standards Lezil and I went to a screening of a new documentary. This was a collaboratively produced project by The British Council, a Shanghai-based entertainment company Split Works and a locally-based film company Daedelum Films. The 55 minutes fly-on-the-wall movie entitled “From Wrexham to Wuhan” followed the experiences of four British bands performing at various cities across China.
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A good turnout for the screening.
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As part of the Jue Arts Festival, the documentary "From Wrexham To Wuhan" is screened.
| For all-but-one of the performers, it was their first experience being in the Far East and the differences in the music scene, culture and modes of travel all gave the viewers a chance to see how each person adapted.
It was an excellent way to promote cross-culture creativity and the snappy edits of both the performances and the more behind-the-scenes footage gave you a good enough insight into how the bands were actually received in China. That night at the venue, a good turnout of both Chinese and expats supported what was touted as a ‘world premiere’.
| | After a few hellos and goodbyes with some familiar faces after the screening, we made our way to The Room. A fairly new clubbing venue, our Chinese Swedish friend Sunni was celebrating his birthday with another mate of his, Daniel. Both the birthday boys had booked out the entire place for their private get-together. Each table had its regular flow of soft drinks, vodka and champagne. And the crowd that night was very mixed from Americans and Scandinavians to the Chinese Diaspora including: USA, Malaysia, Singapore and, of course, mainland China.
The music was decidedly more underground with a lot of electro, break beats and the fast-becoming-annoying-tune ‘Harlem Shake’ being played three times that night.
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At 'The Room' celebrating Sunni's (left) birthday.
| By midnight I was decidedly on the edge of ‘too happy’ and decided it was time to get home. (Their vodka and orange mix worked slowly but potently.) Once my head hit the pillow, I was out for the count.
The ladies deciding on what to eat at the Penta Hotel's brunch.
| Sunday started with our weekly visit to our nearby vegetable market. Stocking up on all our green goodies for the week we went to the Penta Hotel Shanghai for their popular Sunday brunch. So popular is their brunch that when we arrived at the opening time of 11am, the whole restaurant was already booked out. The reason behind the high demand is their tantalising price of just RMB 128 (£12) per person which basically gives you a main dish and an eat-as-much-as-you-want buffet.
| | We rendevouzed with our friends Alex and Kwandi and managed to get the hotel staff to sit us in the entrance’s lounge area complete with a real-life looking fake log fire. The dining experience did not disappoint. We sat there for over two hours while we had a much overdue catch up from our Chinese New Year holidays. I went for a three cheese omelette which was cooked just right while the ladies opted for scrambled eggs on salmon and toast with tomatoes. This was accompanied with an endless flow of tea, coffee and super delicious pastries and cheese from the buffet.
I felt a like a bit of a glutton just thinking about our next appointment which was afternoon tea with our Shanghai mama, Miranda.
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Ready to eat! (left to right) Kwandi, Alex, Lezil and I.
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Eating our second (!!) lunch of the day at Sunflour with (left to right) Miranda, Phoebe, Lezil and I.
| Departing the Penta Hotel we taxied it down to the SunFlour, one of our favourite bakeries-cum-restaurants in our area. This time, Lezil and I decided to share a dish as we were still busy digesting our banquet from earlier. We were also joined by Phoebe, an apprentice of Miranda’s who has been learning cooking skills and English under her careful watch.
Phoebe recently bagged a job at Sun Flour itself now working on the cake section in the kitchen and from what she was telling us, she’s thoroughly enjoying her new position. Again we spent a couple of hours packing in stories from our time in Australia and Miranda’s time in Canada.
| How we managed to fit in two back to back lunches – was a mystery to me. (I’d like you to know that we skipped dinner that night from being so full!) Food aside, these precious people we call friends make up our family here in Shanghai. You share, you encourage, you debate, you sometimes disagree but all the time there’s that sense of ‘having each other’s back’. It’s what keeps you grounded on a journey with plenty of ups and downs, especially in a city like Shanghai.
Buying a rosemary herb plant to add to our existing mint herb plant.
Back at home, placing the soil in the troughs.
Lezil mixes the soil.
Amarula the cat drops by to look in on us.
Attempting to give a fish treat to Amarula.
The soil is ready for planting!
Carefully putting the seeds in the soil.
Ta Da! All done and now the waiting game begins!
Soaking up the sun on our windowsill.
Kitted out for our afternoon of Supa Golf!
| Australia as a whole lends itself to a very outdoors lifestyle. With the amount of space and the great weather (especially in Perth where it’s pretty much consistent all year around) you are spoilt for choice when it comes to activities.
That afternoon it was all about Supa Golf. It’s a variation on the real game. Bigger club heads, bigger balls and putting holes that are twice the original size means that virtually anyone can play it. And that suited first timers Lezil and I. A well-priced $12.50 each got us kitted out with our own set of clubs, tees and balls.
| | The other thing about Supa Golf is the actual golf course itself which is only nine holes and the longest driving distance is just over 100 metres.
Lezil’s parents and brother were regular golf players, so already we were at a disadvantage. Nonetheless they were happy enough to share some of their insider tips to ensure that when we teed off, our ball wouldn’t go wildly off course. There was a strong crosswind that we had to contend with too. Most of the holes were either 3 par or 4 par and the first couple of holes proved difficult getting the ball in on par.
Once you got the feel of swinging the club and the flight of the ball, we all started to get into our stride. Melville Golf Centre, where we were playing, was well maintained with a simple club house overlooking the greens, a driving range and a practising putting green. |
Lezil getting some tips from her bro Jesse.
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In the middle of our game, Lezil with her mom.
| There were a number of people out playing that day and I was a bit worried that our slowish pace was holding up some of the groups behind us. But I was told that golfing etiquette was to wait.
Nearing the end, the eighth and ninth holes were tightly contested as some of us hit or sweet spots and others lost concentration giving way to unnecessary errors. All our balls were scattered around the putting green on the last hole when Lezil’s brother Jesse received a phone call from a long-time family friend back in Cape Town. His name was Carlo who I had met back in 2010 – the year I proposed to Lezil. I remember him pulling me aside and giving me the whole “if you mess with Lezil, you mess with me speech…” (in a nice way though!). So I was delighted to report back to him that our marriage thus far was going swimmingly well! | | Jesse’s mobile was handed from person to person as we all had our few minutes with Carlo. This, according to Dad Hendricks, was what made his own downfall getting 3 over on the last hole. With the entire course completed, we camped to one side as Dad H counted up the final scores. In reverse order: Lezil 15 over, me 9 over, Dad H 7 over, Mom H 5 over and the winner…Jesse with just 3 over. I presented my brother-in-law with his commemorative tee trophy. A game well played.
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And the winner is....
| | | The following morning and we went down to the weekly Sunday Community Market which happens at Market City – a purposed built zone in south Perth for market sellers. It started back in 1990 and today it’s Perth’s largest attracting over 5,000 people each week. The stalls were housed in a huge hanger-type covering with open sides. You pay a $1 admission fee and then have free reign to hunt down that bargain. Originally more of a fruit and veg place, nowadays you can pick up anything from vintage wear and frozen meat to crystals and tents.
| | They had a great plants and flowers section, in particular selling a selection of herbs for your garden. I was also surprised to see the amount of chilli plants being sold considering the amount of Australians that I have come across who dislike spicy food. There were a number of second hand book sellers and as it’s difficult to get a good selection of foreign books in Shanghai, I set out to find me some good reads. I found one for a dollar which was, ironically, about China called ‘Socialism is Great!’ by Lijia Zhang. Lezil managed to pick up an excellent reference book to help her with her reflexology studies.
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Chilli plants on special at the market.
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South Africans Sammy and Kay with their excellent Indian-influenced sauces.
| Midway through our wanderings we walked up to a table which was doused in South African flags. Run by a couple originally from Pietermartizburg (not far from Durban) they moved to Perth three years ago after a six year stint in New Zealand and now run their South African sauce business from home. The range was branded as ‘Aunt Kay’s’ (after its inventor) where they had small wooden sticks which you could use to dip into different sauces for sampling. Lots of fire and lots of flavour – a great combination of that South African Indian heritage to be found in cooking from KwaZulu-Natal.
| I instantly fell for their Garlic Chilli Sauce which packed a mean punch – perfect as a marinade and for simply dipping your nacho chips into. Or, as was the case, the right accompaniment to my Mexican taco meal I was to cook for the family later that evening.
Towards the end of our market meander we came to a seller who had Australia’s famed UGG Boots proudly on display. These were the real deal priced anywhere from $100 over. The man responsible was busy in conversation with, what I thought was a customer, but as we drifted past where they were standing I caught some of their conversation which was a deep theological discussion. Interesting. | At the end of one of his tables, he had written a cardboard sign saying “Free Please Take”. If it’s free, I’ll take a look! I knelt down to the low table soon realising that the coverless DVDs all had a running theme – Christianity. Titles like “Friend of God”, “The Godhead and the Holy Spirit” and “The Final Events” all teased my curiosity. Wanting to be polite, I walked back over to the stall holder to ask him if it was fine that we took a couple of his DVDs. This was the catalyst to instigate a conversation.
His first question was “Are you Christians?” Yes. “Great!” he said.
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A varied selection of Christian-themed DVDs.
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With Peter, the 'UGG Boots Preacher'!
| The journalist in me absolutely thrives on knowing a person’s back story and in the few seconds of hearing him speak, I was eager to know his nationality. His vowels sounded Australian but some of his consonants had a foreign-tinged accent to them. “I am from the former Yugoslavia,” he said satisfying my urge to know. He introduced himself as Peter and informed us that he moved over to Australia at young age where he has lived ever since.
Having been in various states, he now resides in Western Australia with his UGG Boots business but it was clear his passion for God was his true calling. The ten minutes or so we spent chatting with him was inspiring as his infectious upbeat view of life was unstoppable. A straight forward talking guy with a no nonsense attitude concerning his beliefs, to me, he instantly became the ‘UGG Boots Preacher’.
| (I’m sure he must be the only one out there!) It was the most unlikely place to have come across a God experience that day and just as well as we didn’t go to Church that Sunday morning!
The oversized balls for Supa Golf.
Choosing the right club for my next shot!
Lezil takes a swing but doesn't quite make contact with the ball!!
But then she comes up better on the putting green as Mom H cheers her on!
I manage to get a couple of good holes in too.
Dad H shows his skills on a long shot here.
With the game finished, the scores are tallied up.
The bargain hunters are out in force at the Sunday Community Market, south Perth.
All sorts off second hand goods are sold from a back of a car.
Lezil at the pets section.
Unsurprisingly, a large bulk of goods has the infamous 'Made in China' tag on them.
Wallets from China with a considerable mark up in Australian dollars. These go for about $5 in any market in Shanghai. In Perth, some were at $20 and above!
Rather blurred-eyed, I yawned and stretched my way out of our Bayview Resort villa at 7am. The rest of the group were still sleeping, but I wanted to steal a few moments alone by the beach. Being by the water, at that time of the day, gives me time to reflect as I gaze across the vast ocean in front of me. The busyness of life seems to no longer matter as the simplicity of nature oozes its way into my consciousness.
7am and descaling his catch from the night before.
| Being a bay, the water was more like a lake than an ocean with barely any movements lapping the shore. We certainly do not have scenes like this anywhere near Shanghai, so I was overly happy soaking up every moment. I went for a walk and came across a man who had spent the night before catching herring (38 in total) and he was contently de-scaling the fish to be cooked later. It was all-so relaxing as we conversed about his life and how he takes a month off every year to spend at his campervan home not far from the beach.
| | An 8 am tennis game followed with Lezil’s dad and brother before Lezil and I jumped in the car for an afternoon exploring the coastline together. This is what really gets my juices flowing – an open road, a map and an innumerable amount of tiny towns and villages to drop in on. Going due west along Geographe Bay we eventually drove downhill to the shore, arriving at a remote place called Eagle Bay. A handful of houses clung to the low-lying hills overlooking the spectacular shoreline.
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The deserted beach at Eagle Bay.
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The limestone lighthouse at Cape Naturaliste.
| The beach itself was made of silky smooth white sand and the clearest water I have ever seen. A number of outlaying rocks created knee-high lagoons allowing you to venture out without going in too deep.
Like so many occasions before, we had the whole place to ourselves. Back in the car and we drove up to the tip of the bay’s headland known as Cape Naturaliste. It’s limestone lighthouse, built in 1903, still stands today working as a warning for ships to keep their distance from the dangerous reefs and rocks dotted all along the coast. Paying for a guided tour ($11 AUD per person), our 35 minute walk around the lighthouse and up to the top, was a blustery affair. The wind had picked up pace, so much so, that our guide’s glasses were blown off into the nearby shrubbery.
| | The views from the top (123m above sea level) were literally breathtaking as you struggled to get your words out against the prevailing wind. Clinging tightly to the metallic white painted rails, we did the 360 degree walk to capture the views all around before getting down to ground level. Seeing as though it was so windy, I thought we’d go to Yallingup which is an aboriginal word meaning “place of love”. Nowadays, the main thing associated with the seaside town is surfing.
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Very windy at the top of the lighthouse!
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Record sleeves for menus!
| With huge rollers crashing in, this was the place to try and tame a wave. Before getting in on the beach action, we decided to park up for some lunch at the only visible outlet – Shaana Café and Restaurant. We walked in 45 minutes before the advertised lunch closing time of 3pm. A friendly lady seated us at two comfy arm chairs that looked like they had come from an English tearoom. Two LP covers were handed to us as she said, “Here are your menus,” in a decidedly European-sounding accent. How cool!
We slipped out the laminated menus from within the record covers. The menu was an Italian fanfare with authentically described dishes and ingredients.
| | I ordered a calzone filled with mozzarella cheese and spinach and Lezil went for a type of oven-baked pumpkin dish saturated in an intense tasting tomato sauce and cheese. Both dishes got a 5 stars rating. This was all too real Italian to be made by an Australian. Ordering our chocolate hazelnut cake to be boxed up to go, we got chatting with our friendly European lady.
The story goes like this. She, Chiara, and her husband Alfonso and three year old daughter moved to Australia and bought the place last June, spent two months doing it up and opened their restaurant in September. |
Siiting in our comfy armchairs with our Italian food.
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With Shaana Café co-owner, Chiara.
| They employ a staff of around eight people including two chefs in their early twenties brought over from Italy (that explains the perfection of the Italian recipes we tasted!). It was so captivating hearing her story. After a few years running their business there in Yallingup, they plan to do an incredible overland trip from Singapore back to Italy with a six-month stint in India – now that’s what I call global citizens.
Doing and email swap and promising to keep in touch (what a friendly bunch!), we could hear the commentaries of an ongoing surf competition as we stepped out of the restaurant. | | There was a gazebo, rather struggling against the crazy gusts of winds, where spectators stood to watch surfers battle it out in the water below. There were different categories, each awarded for their style and the wave they managed to catch. We stayed for the stand up and paddle segment which uses a thicker board than a surfer’s one and comes with a paddle.
I really admired the determination of the competitors as each wave rose up like an angry dragon unravelling its breath of fire with venom. And seeing the odd person getting caught in the wave was pretty nail-biting to watch. I wasn’t all clued up with all the rules and points. |
Some of the surfing competitors at Yallingup Beach.
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With Peruvian surfer Geraldo who has been in Australia for more than 20 years.
| So I approached one official behind the competition stand area. The split second he uttered his first few words, I had to stop him in mid-sentence, saying “Eres tú latino?” (“Are you Latino?”) He paused looking at me wondering if I actually had spoken to him in Spanish?
It transpired that we were neighbours – Geraldo was Peruvian, and me the Ecuadorian. He works as a surf teacher and competition organiser and fell in love with Australia after a simple holiday trip more than 20 years ago. Despite his long time down under, his South American accent was as thick as ever and he was equally passionate about his adopted country. | His motto was, “live where you feel most comfortable, if it’s not for you, then move on…” He literally spends every day by the beach and at 64 years old – it certainly has done him a world of good looking nothing like his actual age. | The day wrapped up with a major indulgence at one of the region’s best loved ice cream brands – Simmo’s. It actually came over from Northern Ireland and was first set up by a father and son team in 1993. Today it has several outlets in Western Australia with over 100 flavours to choose from. The scoops were generously placed on the cones as we took them to the garden out the back. My Apple Pie flavour was spot on with the chunky bits of cooked apple seasoned in cinnamon, tasting like it had just come out of the oven. Lezil had the flavour of the day, Burnt Caramel with Salty Caramel Swirl. Ice creams put away in record time, it was back to the resort for an early evening match of tennis and swim (much calorie-burning needed!).
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Arriving at Simmo's for some delicious-tasting locally produced ice cream!
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Playing giant Connect Four before our guided tour of Cape Naturaliste Lighthouse.
With our tickets to the lighthouse.
Going up the lighthouse's winding stairs.
View due north from the top of the lighthouse.
Stopping for a Shaana Café lunch at Yallingup Beach.
Shaana Café co-owner, Chiara, serving a customer.
Some of the wave action at Yallingup Beach.
At Simmo's ice cream with a great little saying!
With our two delighful flavours of Simmo's scoops!
 The gang, up bright and early ready for our trip down to Margaret River! | Margaret River – an area known for its wine production – was our destination for a long weekend’s stay. The journey south from Perth would cover over 200km using mostly free-flowing freeways to get there in around three hours (including a couple of stops).
By 10am our party of two cars pulled into the quaint town where the Bussell Highway we had used to get into the region, formed the actual high street with shops and restaurants lined up on both sides.
| | We grabbed a cooked brekkie before Lezil’s entire family (Dad, Mom, brother Jesse) myself, Lezil and Brook (Jesse’s girlfriend) went just south of Margaret River town to A Maze’N. The main attraction there is its imposing hedge maze which was first planted in 1994 and has been growing ever since.
Perhaps because it was lunch time, we were practically the only ones there and so we had free reign to enjoy this real-life Alice in Wonderland adventure. To add that competitive edge, we split into three couples teams. |  Arriving at A Maze'N for our hedge maze challenge. |  This way to the maze! | There was one entrance and one exit but you also had to reach the central look-out point. And, for extra points, you had to come across eight different benches – each a type of animal or object. To make sure we played by the rules, photos of each bench and one from the middle look out platform had to be taken.
Slapping on some sunblock and armed with bottles of water each, a cloud of dust kicked up as we hurriedly ran into the maze’s entrance. | | The hedges were exceptionally well laid out as it was impossible to tell if you were coming to a dead end (as was the case with Lezil and I quite a few times!). Jesse and his girlfriend Brook were the first to reach the centre, noted by their taunts of “We are here…!” In the meantime we played cat and mouse with Lezil’s parents trying to lose them and lead them down wrong paths.
The earlier speed we had gleefully displayed had slowed down to a gentle walk as the sun’s heat was beginning to take its toll. We eventually stumbled across the central lookout point for a breather before launching into the mission of finding the exit. There were a few times where I was tempted to sneak through one of the emergency exits and run around the outside to fake a win, but my moral side told me otherwise. 40 minutes later and we could hear that both other pairs had completed the task. |  Getting somewhat lost inside the giant hedge maze. |  Going up against Mom Hendricks in the final of outdoor noughts-and-crosses! | Now, it was just the case of saving face by at least completing the maze which, thankfully, we managed to do five minutes later. The winners: Jesse and Brook.
Apart from some paths and gardens, there were other solving-type games including a brick maze (far simpler to complete) and a left-hand maze where you could only get out by taking left turns and going straight – a lot harder than it looked. Over at the hibiscus garden was an outdoor version of noughts-and-crosses. Here, I managed to redeem myself by winning my rounds to become eventual champion. | Escaping the sun’s strong rays we made the short drive back into Margaret River to get some sandwiches and eat them at a nearby nature reserve in the shade of the forest. The great thing about the whole South West area, of which Margaret River is at its epicentre, is that a whole host of attractions are all within short driving distances. The roads are teeming with brown-coded tourism signs alerting drivers of any number of factories or wineries inviting people to sample anything from dried fruit and chocolate to seeing silk worms in action and, of course, local wines. | I absolutely loved our visit to the Margaret River Dairy Company where they had different cheeses to try (hands up, I am a cheese addict). The Port Club Cheddar was the winner for me and I immediately bought one to take away. It had a light but sharp taste, leaning on the mature side. I could already seem myself savouring slices of the stuff on crunchy water crackers with a stick of celery on the side.
Another 15 minutes down a couple of country lanes and we arrived at the Margaret River Chocolate Company – somewhat of an institution in the area.
|  Wonderful selection of locally produced cheeses. |  It's chocolate time! | This place was huge with every conceivable chocolate variety under the sun and moon. I’m not usually a white chocolate person (I prefer my darker varieties – read what you may into that!) but their white chocolate button samples were simply sublime. It was also great to see them stocking chocolate produced from other countries including my native Ecuador which I was particularly proud of. What caught my eye, or my palette to be exact, was the combination of chilli and chocolate – sweet and fiery at the same time. | | Having been on the go since 5am that morning, we were more than ready to head to our accommodation. The Bayview Geographe Resort, as its name suggests, is right on Geographe Bay with direct beach access. The hotel is made up of 28 acres of parkland with mostly villa-style accommodation. Ours was a spacious three-bedroom holiday home with kitchen, dining room, living room, TVs in all rooms and ensuite. Other facilities included two swimming pools, three tennis courts and a games room.
As Lezil and I had lost the maze challenge, our forfeit was to make dinner that night.
|  Our villa for the weekend at the Bayview Resort Geographe Bay, Western Australia. | I rustled up a healthy cous cous salad with cucumbers, tomatoes, spring onions and seasoned with pepper and pure lemon juice. Lezil made a delicious chicken stew to accompany it. With dinner over, we were well and truly ready for some solid sleep.  The path from the Bayview Resort down to the beach.  The stunning beaches of Geographe Bay right by our hotel.  Finally finding the central point of the maze!  Brook & Jesse, eventual maze winners.  Mom & Dad Hendricks show some of their gymnastic skills!  Being silly on the rocks! (yes, I know what it looks like I'm doing!!....LOL)  A lot harder than it looks - the left hand-only turn maze.  Striking a pose on the red, white and black brick maze!  High-Five as I win the noughts-and-crosses competition! (or 'tic tac toe' for my American readers!)  Time for some cheese tasting at the Margaret River Dairy Company.  A range of great tasting cheeses to sample!  I buy myself some Port Club Cheddar for $5 AUD.  At the Chocolate Factory, trying some white, dark and milk chocolate.  Great to see some Ecuadorian cacao chocolate stocked!  We drive along the west coast for a quick stop at Gnarabup Beach. (left to right) Brook and Lezil.  A kite surfer sets off from the shore at Gnarabup Beach - plenty of wind!!
 Along many of Western Australian roads - signs for kangaroos. | A sure sign that my Chinese must be getting better became apparent the other day. A planned trip out to the country failed when our Tom Tom told us “…you have arrived at your destination…”. Lezil and I peered out of the car to see nothing but forest all around us with no Koala reserve in sight.
We drove on for another 15 minutes in the hope of finding an entrance but we came up empty. There was the odd road sign warning us to keep a look out for kangaroos, but that was it. It was getting late in the afternoon and technically there was only an hour left until the reserve closed, so we decided to postpone the visit for another day. (And look at a good old-fashioned map for the exact coordinates!) We headed back into Perth’s suburbs and made a pit-stop at a shopping complex. We decided to pick up some eats at Coles (a type of Australian Tesco). It was totally weird seeing shelf after shelf of Western food.
| | Back in Shanghai, not even 1% of what was sold there we could get our hands on and even then, it would be relegated to half an aisle of so-called ‘imported goods’. Of course, we came across some local produce including kangaroo meat. Now, that’s not so uncommon being in Australia and all. But what we saw was kangaroo meat for pets, in the frozen food section, in between the frozen pizzas and frozen dim sum. How pet food got grouped there, and of the kangaroo meat variety – beats me.
For some reason, they had run out on cucumbers. We paid for the rest of our items and near the mini shopping precinct exit was a small grocers.
|  In a supermarket's frozen food section, kangaroo meat for pets. | In the vegetable and fruit section there was a variety of greens on offer. In big green plastic trays were three kinds of cucumbers on offer. I wasn’t sure which one to get. Looking around for a sales clerk, I called over the man behind the cash till. Asking him to differentiate between the three types, he struggled to string a sentence together.  Meeting a very excitable Chinese-speaking, Mr Ong! | I guessed by his Asian appearance and his accented Chinglish, that he must have been Chinese. I flipped into Mandarin mode. “Zhe shi yi yang de ma?” (Is this the same?) He stood back and starting flapping his hands like he had just won the state lottery. A flood of Mandarin came my way and I had to ask him to slow down. (I’m not that good yet!) He asked how I learnt to speak Mandarin and I told him that both Lezil and I are currently living in Shanghai. It was a fast-moving conversation with him firing all sorts of questions at me. My vocabulary is limited but I managed to get across what my profession is, why we were in Australia, how long the flight is between Shanghai and Perth and, strangely enough, what an average teacher’s salary in Shanghai is.
| The inevitable picture-taking took place and we exchanged business cards (using two hands of course) with him giving me his personal mobile number and giving me a sneak peek of a recent photo of his granddaughter. I thought we’d be happy to have a break from all things Chinese. But in reality, it was comforting to come into contact with something that was overly familiar to us. This guy could have been anyone. Overlooking the fact that my Mandarin was very low-level, he enthusiastically engaged with us like we had been family who had just flown in from the motherland to celebrate Chinese New Year in Perth. Who would have thought, that I would be using Mandarin in Australia to get by a language barrier situation?
| | It has been a full on week working through our to-do list before we have our annual getaway for Spring Festival. It’s the time of year when the largest human migration in the world takes place. Nearly two billions worth of journeys will happen as Chinese people move all over the country, back to their respective hometowns to see in the new year.
Having already experienced the start of the new Chinese lunar calendar before, I didn’t fancy days of non-stop fireworks and all the noise (day and night) that accompanies the fanfare. So, Lezil and I are ditching China in favour of some much needed summer sun in Western Australia to spend time with her family | Currently, Australia is experiencing some of the hottest temperatures on record and so, the first thing on my pre-travel action list was to shed the hair. I had been keeping my long strands for the last four months, but knowing the furnace we were about to enter into to, my winter coat is now gone. Next to tick off was a previously postponed visit. My friend Kevin had invited me a number of times to his Church, but we couldn’t quite co-ordinate our timetables to make it happen. I had a window Sunday morning and so, up early, I made my way to central Jing’an area. | Grace Baptist Church was originally established in 1910 making it one of the oldest Churches in Shanghai. However, it moved a number of times from its first premises and in 1942 found its way to where it stands today on Shaanxi Bei Lu. Service started at 9am and I was outside the Church’s gates at 8:45am calling Kevin but the automated China Mobile message kept telling me his phone was powered off. Strange. Thankfully he just happened to come out of the Church building when I spotted him.
Following him up to the balcony area, I was shocked to see the Church completely full with 10 minutes to go until the official start. I was handed a battery-powered radio receiver with a pair of white in-ear headphones. The service was entirely in Chinese, and the foreigner that I am, I still needed assistance with the language. |  With Kevin outside Grace Baptist Church Shanghai. |  A choir leads the congregation in traditional hymns. | I was one of ten other non-Chinese seated and it was a sizeable congregation with easily over 1,500 people present. Proceedings followed a more-traditional format with hymns led by a choir and piano accompaniment.
The youngish Chinese Baptist pastor delivered a lively sermon based on Matthew 7:12 “…do unto others what you would have them do to you…”. I managed to keep up with what was being said (even though at times the translations I was listening to boarded on the more Chinglish). State-of-the-art flat screens were dotted about the Church hall transmitting a live broadcast of the service.
| | And in little over an hour, I was reading the final benediction in Chinese along with the rest of congregation.
Afterwards, I was introduced to a few of Kevin’s Church friends who made me most welcome. Touring the main downstairs area, I noticed on the wall a cluster of black antennas sticking out of metallic boxes. Kevin explained that the Church had installed mobile scramblers to cut off any phone reception. I took out my mobile and true to its functionality, I had no signal at all. That explained why, when I tried calling Kevin earlier, I couldn’t get through.
|  Equipment used to block mobile phone signals in the Church. |  Slurping our spicy beef Taiwanese noodles! | Personally, I think more Churches should install them. To take a measly two or so hours out of your week to not be able to access calls, text or go online and focus on faith is not asking for much.
By the time early afternoon hit, Lezil and I were in a taxi zipping our way through the back streets of the French Concession area in Shanghai. We had a lunchtime meet-up with Miranda – our adventurous Shanghainese mama. Slurping our spicy Taiwanese noodles like pros, we laughed, we debated and made the most of each other’s company for we were going to be away for a month and Miranda was travelling back to her adopted country of Canada during the holidays.
| | It was a surprisingly mild day as we walked off our big bowls of soup. Nearby, a number of local shops were in full Spring Festival mode selling all sorts of red-themed trinkets. We picked up a couple of items. After all, we may not be spending the actual day in the country itself but China has become huge part of our lives. And therefore to not acknowledge the most important national holiday of the year is like turning our backs on something like Easter or Christmas back in the West.
|  Shopping for Chinese New Year goodies! |  Outdoor coat 'store' down a French Concession lane. | After a bit of haggling, our plastic bags were brimming with Chinese New Year items. We wandered our way down another French Concession side street and came across a makeshift street ‘store’. That’s what I love about China. People are so resourceful and will try what they can to squeeze out a living anywhere. The entrepreneurial man had used a side lane’s railings to create a grand display of woollen and faux-fur coats. As it was a sunny day, there was no chance of the weather destroying his open-air bazaar.
| All the coats were Woolmark branded – probably sample stock and surplus supplies. And charging between RMB 100 – RMB 300 a coat, needless to say he was selling his items fast. Miranda picked up a three-quarter length purple coat which, for a bargain price, can be adjusted by any number of street tailors to be found in Shanghai.
China has truly become home for Lezil and I in the most unexpected of ways, so much so that I am actually curious if we are about to experience a type of reverse culture shock going into an all Western environment…
 Outside one of Shanghai's oldest Churches - Grace Baptist.  The stained glass window inside Grace Baptist Church.  Shanghai gets ready for Chinese New Year!  Lezil and Miranda surrounded by new year trinkets.  Hunting for a bargain at this coat street store.  Miranda finds her match - a woollen purple coat!
 Camille doing Lezil's make up. | For a moment it looked like we wouldn’t be able to attend our friend Nikki’s wedding. The four days leading up to the grand day, Lezil had been struck down with a strong chest and throat infection which made Marge Simpson sound like an angelic chorister.
Lezil had been asked to sing and we were literally pulling every concoction out of the book to try and bring on a speedy recovery. Dinner with some friends on New Year’s Eve was cancelled to maximise rest time and on that New Year’s Day morning, still she was sounding hoarse as we rehearsed in our apartment. | The wedding was in few hours time and I dreaded the thought of putting in a call to the bride telling her, that her main entertainment for the evening was not happening.
| This is where the support of good friends really makes or breaks a situation. Get-well texts came through from a number of people. Our Shanghainese mama, Miranda, dropped off a big bag of herbal remedies, a purple shawl and a beautiful dark mink fur coat she bought in Canada. Another friend, Camille, put her background in hair, beauty and well-being into action as she massaged Lezil and readied her by doing a fantastic job on her hair and make-up. Lezil looked every bit of a 1920s superstar during the height of the Shanghai jazz scene.
Swigging back a concentrated fresh lemon and honey mix to soothe her throat, it was late afternoon and time to head to the Hongqiao Gardens – a restaurant complex where the wedding was being held. |  Hair and make up by Camille! |  The taxi road over, Lezil the superstar in a stylish Canadian mink fur coat. | Patricia, Nikki’s MC and organiser, was waiting for us outside the entrance as our taxi pulled up. “Wow! Your coat is amazing, welcome to the wedding,” she greeted Lezil. This is where the artist manager-side of me kicked in as fired a number of questions at Patricia. I wanted to make sure that everything was in place so that my wife could enjoy her performance.
“So, the wedding will start at 6:18pm,” informed Patricia. Did I hear right? “6:18pm?” I asked her with a puzzled look. She went on to explain that the time reflects lucky Chinese numbers with the ‘six’ in Mandarin (liu) sounding like the word ‘fluid’ implying ease of business and the ‘eight’ (ba) connected with the word ‘prosper’. This sounds all good and well, but in reality, what wedding starts on time? I’ve attended my fair-share of big days, all of which started at varying degrees of lateness. The most patience-testing had to have been a lavish Nigerian wedding I went to in London (UK) which saw guests waiting over three hours until the bride finally appeared.
| | Whilst I doubted very much I’d be taking part in a West African money dance or eating some jollof rice, I already had in my mind a 7pm kick off. Inside, by some amazing coincidence the colour scheme was white and violet, matching Lezil’s deep purple ball gown. Nikki the bride and her groom Kong were, appropriately, the centre of attention as they welcomed their guests. It was like a red carpet arrival with poster-perfect airbrushed photos of the happy couple prominently displayed as people took turns to pose in the designated picture-taking area.
|  Guests picture-taking with Nikki the bride and Kong the groom. |  Our two names are the only ones not in Chinese characters. | The evening was to start with the wedding ceremony followed by dinner. It was already 5:15pm as we glanced over the seating plan. It was clear that Lezil and I were the only two foreigners in attendance with our names being the only ones not in Chinese characters. Patricia showed us to our table. The hall was a medium sized, L-shaped room with a small stage at the bend of the ‘L’. By the stage stood a three-tiered cake which must have been over a metre tall. On the opposite end was a small champagne glass tower. We ran a quick microphone and track test before sitting.
| | I was very surprised to see practically all 130 guests already present, enjoying some drinks with still 30 minutes left to the start. The wedding was actually going to hit its intended bull’s eye timing. Lezil was busy downing warm water with lemon and Chinese green tea. Suddenly the Bridal Chorus played from a laptop out back and a line of indoor poppers were let off. I glanced at my mobile. Not a second late, it read “6:18pm”. This was some serious wedding precision. There were no religious elements involved. The short 20 minute ceremony started off with a Kong’s media company boss’ address.
|  6:18pm on the dot and the couple's wedding ceremony starts. | The bride’s parents went on stage and officially recognised the marital union. Then the couple did a number of ‘love’ acts which included the exchange of rings and the filling of the champagne glass tower. A brief group toast by the attendees and it was all over. The couple then left the room.
Dish, after, dish, after dish came. Seafood, meat, vegetables, congee, noodles and more. Patricia then beckoned Lezil backstage. It was time for her first of two numbers.  Lezil performs at the wedding. | A quick vocal warm up and Lezil was soon walking on stage as the audience applauded. Power ballads are overly popular in China and we thought we’d give them a classic – Vanessa William’s ‘Save The Best For Last’. As soon as the first chorus was sung, clapping had started in acknowledgment of Lezil’s masterful control of her notes and voice projection. It’s always a bit nerve-wracking for me to see my lovely wife up there but never for a moment did I doubt she’d be a hit. Petite, beautiful and clearly talented – she fits the perfect mould to an Asian perception of what a Pop singer should be like.
| “Xie xie,” (thank you) said Lezil as she respectfully bowed to the crowd at the end of her song. She came backstage again and we just hugged silently for two minutes. No one at that wedding knew how close we came to cancelling. | The next set of speeches had already started as we settled back in our chairs. Throughout the evening, the couple kept coming and going, each time the bride in a new outfit. She looked stunning in all of them, but it was her third and final one – a traditional red Qipao – that was the most eye-catching. To satisfy Nikki’s request, Lezil’s second performance was a cover of the Carpenter’s ‘On Top of The World’ which got the guests clapping along.
In Western weddings, a highlight is the throwing of the bouquet. The same ideal was adopted but instead of lobbying it backwards over her head, the bride held the bouquet with eight strings (that lucky number again!) dangling below. Eight guests were invited on stage, each holding a string.
|  With Nikki in her stunning red 'Qipao'. | Counting down, all guests pulled their strings at the same time. The guest holding the one string attached to the bouquet wins. The wedding party then moved from table to table thanking and toasting.
Like the wedding had such a pinpoint start, the ending pretty much followed the same fashion. Barely two hours had gone by and guests were thanking the couple and leaving. It was even shorter than my Nigerian wedding waiting time in London. I did, however, miss – the music, the dancing, the Africanness in celebration and a strong spiritual theme. But as far as Shanghai weddings go, it was a friendly relaxed affair which was also every wedding planner’s dream – exactly on time.
 With the wedding couple (left to right) Kong and Nikki.  Guests arriving at the wedding venue.  Kong's boss and his opening speech.  The champagne tower is filled.  Seafood on the menu.  Lezil having fun with a piece of chicken!  Enjoy our New Year's Day Shanghai wedding.  We toast the wedding couple at our table.  Lezil performs her final song.  Back home unexpectedly early, we pour ourselves some red wine with some cheese, pasta and Jacob's Cream Crackers!
 A packed Hengshan Communty Church for Christmas Day service. | The 25th itself was a very different affair for us. There was no turkey, no Christmas crackers with terrible jokes, no Brussels sprouts (thank God!) and definitely no Queens speech broadcast live on CC TV (China Central Television).
There was, however, one tradition we managed to uphold and that was attending a Christmas morning service at Hengshan Community Church. Usually there are two English-speaking services on a Sunday, but on Christmas Day there was just the one at 11am.
| Combining the normal Sunday attendance plus the expected seasonal extras – the main hall and overflow areas were filled to capacity. Led by Pastor Dale Cuckow from the US, we enjoyed singing a number of traditional carols surrounded by an indoor winter wonderland of twinkling lights and a grand Christmas tree with a bright yellow star perched on top. There was a heart-warming segment where a couple of Sunday school teachers dressed up as Old Testament characters Abraham and Sarah with many of the congregation’s children sat up front listening to the Christmas story unfold. | In just over an hour the service had finished. Slowly, one after another, we spotted various friends who we greeted with hugs and kisses. Everyone was in a festive mood as we took photos and chatted about our plans for the rest of the day. By the Church’s entrance stood a short elegant lady in a long winter coat with her hair kept up in a stylish clip. It was Miranda, our Shanghainese mama (as we call her), who was hosting us for the day. And so, our Christmas got a very Chinese makeover.
|  (left to right) Lezil, Graham, Christal, Shanae. | In addition to Miranda’s friend Connie, we also had two of our friends join us – Sunni and Lee, both who are Chinese but of Swedish and Norwegian nationalities respectively. Miranda had decided to avoid the overly priced western restaurants opting instead for a locally run Chinese joint for lunch. It was already 1pm and as most Chinese love to have lunch early (11am), the place was pretty empty by the time we sat at our circular table.
 Random TWA poster in a traditional Chinese restaurant. | One thing that never ceases to amaze me is the randomness of some of the décor choice of Chinese restaurant owners. Inside, you had the usual Asian good luck signs dotted about. But among the paw-swinging cats and money-bringing charms were destination airline posters including one advertising New York City by bankrupted airline TWA. Glimpsing at the menu, we left it to our Chinese friends to order as the entire selection was in Chinese characters (still haven’t got the hang of it yet). Miranda pointed out, that there are very few other cultures in the world which can rival the Chinese when it comes to food variety. And as if to hammer home the point, over 15 dishes of meats, vegetables, sauces and cold entrées were ordered.
Fitting together like puzzle pieces, each plate was squeezed on to an elevated round glass platform in the middle of the table.
| | Steadily, we moved it around as we all helped ourselves to delicious morsels of bites which ranged from the very spicy to the tastefully sweet. There something about continually eating with small bits of food using chopsticks that fills you up quickly. Unlike the western way of one plate to the one person, where we shared and ate to our heart’s content and still at the end of it, we couldn’t finish it all having to dao bao (takeaway box) it for later. Total bill RMB 320 (£32) for six people including unlimited Chinese green tea. No Western restaurant’s Christmas menu would come close to that amount. |  Our magnificent Chinese Christmas feast. |  Setting up the mahjong tiles for the next game. | The traffic outside was at its normal midweek tempo and we had to wait a good 15 minutes until we eventually hailed an available taxi. A half an hour ride to the west of the city and we arrived at Miranda’s two bedroom apartment located in a neat urbanised complex. There were plenty more guests to arrive later that evening. To wile away the hours, out came a box of newly bought mahjong pieces – a popular Chinese pastime. With traces of the game rummy, mahjong and its 136 tiles was a lot more intricate as we had to learn and remember Chinese characters for the numbers and the four winds – North, South, East and West. Not to mention using terms like ‘pong’ (three identical tiles) or ‘chow’ (sequenced tiles)
| | Even the start of the game had a specific process. Tiles facedown, everyone used both hands to mix them up before creating four two-tiled walls all starting from each corner of the table. A roll of the dice determined who went first and then picking the tiles had to run in a pre-determined order. There was a kind of ceremonial finesse that you don’t ever see in Western games of this nature. Connie was our teacher and very quickly, Lezil seemed to catch on to the strategy involved in winning. “This one, very smart,” said Connie with her thumbs up as she grinned at Lezil.
|  Lezil on a winning streak in mahjong! | Despite the obvious linguistic disadvantage, Lezil rapidly transformed into a ruthless player even beating Connie – the master – at her own game. Both skill and luck are honourable elements in Chinese culture and that afternoon, Lezil combined the two taking home eight games in the five hours we played. No one could quite believe it. I joked with Connie telling her that I will be grooming my wife to be a champion mahjong player, ready to win us some big bucks.
 Incredible Christmas Day host and our wonderful friend, Miranda. | Whilst we were busy outdoing each other on the mahjong table in the living room, Miranda had coordinated a feast even greater in variety than our lunchtime experience. It was already 8pm and the rest of Miranda’s closest friends had arrived. Most of them were from the south and therefore Cantonese speaking which was a stark difference to the Mandarin that Lezil and I were used to.
Huge steaming pots of food were laid out, centred around a rice cooker. Each person grabbed a ceramic bowl and chopsticks, thus beginning the second eating-fest. A truly memorable way to spend Christmas in China. But the night was far from over for us. We had one more item to tick off the to-do list. Thanking Miranda for an awesome time, we jumped in another cab speeding back towards the city centre.
| A table spread of Caribbean dishes awaited us at our friend’s place. Camille, a teacher from Jamaica, has long been our partying buddy, especially at every party organised by the Caribbean Association in China. It was already late but Camille was gracious enough to have kept some food aside for us. Having stuffed ourselves twice that day already, all we could muster was a nicely seasoned vegetable broth and homemade apple pie courtesy of the lovely Christal who is also renowned for her Caribbean Banana Bread.
The other guests left shortly after we arrived. So it was just the three of us – Lezil, myself and Camille. Making ourselves comfortable on her large furry rug, we talked about the year that was 2012 and expectations for the coming year. Personally, I am more of a fan of one-to-one or small group conversations. I find you get to really experience more depth and insight into a person’s thinking. Camille is one such person who is so vibrant and positive that you can’t but help feel inspired to grab life with both hands and get the most out of it. And that had to be one of the best gifts she could have shared with us. Plus, we left Camille’s apartment with enough Jamaican dishes for lunch and dinner the following day. What a Christmas Day!
 Outside Hengshan Community Church.  With our friends (left to right) Sunni and Lee.  Lezil with friend Snow.  With my buddy Vova from the Ukraine.  Friends at Christmas Day service.  Christmas Day lunch - Chinese style!  Back at Miranda's - opening our Christmas gift.  Getting into the serious business of mahjong.  I manage to win just the one game!  People enjoying Miranda's incredible cooking.
 Coming together at Alex and Kwandi's apartment for Christmas Eve dinner! | Christmas as an actual holiday in China is non-existent. Most of my colleagues actually had to work on Christmas Day, but I thankfully had the one day off. This year, we were honoured enough to have been invited to a number of places to share in the festivities.
Most foreigners who stay in Shanghai for the holidays are away from their families and so it only makes sense that people would gravitate towards one another to re-create that feeling of belonging. For our friend Kwandi this couldn’t have been more relevant. “God’s love at Christmas has always been real for me through the love of my family. This year it was through the love of my friends…,”she said.
| Together with her French flatmate Alex, they had organised an intimate Christmas Eve dinner for eight people. And it was a right multi-cultural mix of nationalities from Spain, Italy, Indonesia, Haiti, Zimbabwe, USA and of course Lezil and I.
 Opening presents at the table. The warm heating in their spacious apartment had hints of oven baked potatoes wafting from the kitchen. Dinner was in the last stages of preparation and as an appetizer, bowls of avocado mix with tortilla chips were washed down with bubbly cups of champagne. The dining table had been decoratively laid out in Christmas-themed colours and snowmen napkins. And on each plate was a neatly wrapped present with a personalised tag. “Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without opening some presents,” laughed Alex as we sat in our appointed places.
Suddenly we had all become like kids excitedly opening our unexpected gifts. Each gift had been thoughtfully chosen - they couldn’t have got it more right. For me, I was given a bright neon-green tie (yes, I like my bold colours!) and Lezil a blue and grey shawl. Then followed a hearty meal of: chicken stew, broccoli and cauliflower pie, roast potatoes and pork and chestnut stuffing. Adding in the continental touch, Alex put together an excellent cheese board accompanied by freshly baked pieces of French baguette. I was in total cheese-heaven! A fridge-chilled raspberry Pavlova was the ideal dessert to round off the meal.
 Delicious dessert - Pavlova. | With such a broad selection of identities around that table, conversation was thoroughly enlightening. But it was Spaniard Haritz's recount of his near-death experience in Tibet that had us all gripped like teenagers around a camp fire listening to a spooky story. Having adapted badly to the high altitude, he ended up passing out in his hotel room only to be discovered 24 hours later barely alive and unconscious. Eight gruelling days of hit and miss had his friends on tendon hooks wondering if they would ever see him back to his former self, let alone speak. Much to the doctor’s amazement, he made a remarkable recover and a couple of weeks later he was making his way back to Shanghai.
If there was ever a time to be thankful for good health and loyal friends – Haritz's story definitely encompassed all those sentiments.
| Being so far from all that is familiar, it could be easy to complain about what seasonal traditions might be missing. But just the simplicity of having good people around you to share experiences with, despite not being obvious family, does make the feeling of gratitude all the more vivid. I’m thankful for life, thankful for my wife and thankful that I do have such wonderful people both physically near and far. Thank you Lord!  Saying a prayer before eating. |  Around the Christmas dining table! |
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