I've got some good news and some irrelevant news. The good news is I've got a new job, I'll be moving to an international school teaching children. It's a rather bittersweet moment, while I'm saddened by leaving Wall Street English I'll be moving into a teaching role which will undoubtedly be more fulfilling and rewarding.
The irrelevant news is the content of this blog in which I travelled to Jinan and Qingdao taking in a Chinese Super League game and the Qingdao beer festival.
So I had 10 days between jobs and felt like going away somewhere, the only trouble being that it's peak summer time. A quick flight search yielded expensive results. The cheapest destination being Phuket, Thailand. I'd be doing this trip solo, so the thought of paying peak prices to spend a week feeling like a paedophile wasn't so appealing - just imagine if Elon Musk found out about it.
I then thought about heading somewhere new, an untrodden path. The relatively uncharted land of Laos came to mind, but after catching up with the flood warnings the idea of being evacuated and watching my passport get washed away isn't the ideal way to relax.
I had originally wanted to get out of China, but my options were becoming limited. I put together a plan and with a little research, I noticed I could watch a top-flight football game in the city of Jinan before heading over to the coastal city of Qingdao to relax at Asia's biggest beer festival on the beach all within 3 days. The added bonus being that I wouldn't feel an obligation to diddle kids.
The plan was set, I took the short 2-hour train journey to a very humid Jinan.
I often get asked if Chinese people stare at me and, generally in Beijing, they don’t, but once you leave a big international city that’s when you notice it. Walking around Jinan I did feel like a circus attraction, but you’ve just got to ignore it.
In the middle of the city, there is a lake named Daming Lake (I think they’re doing themselves an injustice there as it is actually very picturesque).
The sun was really beating down on me so I stopped to cool off and enjoy the view. As I enjoyed a moment of peace something caught my eye that I had never seen before. I’ve been around the block a few times and I’m nearing in on two years in China, but this shocked me. I saw the oldest woman in the world. If I had to guess she was on the wrong side of 150.
Her face was weathered, tanned, and very wrinkled. So wrinkled in fact that it looked like one of those mazes you find at the back of a TV guide. She was posing for pictures with her family and I just had to have one with her. I sidled up to them and gestured as kindly as I could and luckily she agreed. I sucked in the beer gut as I posed beside her realising I was conscious of how I looked while standing next to a 170-year-old woman.
It’s hard to fathom just how much China has changed during her 185 years. She’s lived through poverty, the Cultural Revolution, the height of Chinese communism, Mao’s mass killings and now she’s stood beside a sweaty foreigner. I wonder which occurrence she would consider the worst. I felt a little guilty asking her for the photo, but considering how many stares I had been receiving the guilt eased.
I carried on further round the lake and again after about 25 minutes of walking, I took refuge from the heat in the shade. A little girl of about 3 or 4 cautiously approached me while her grandmother encouraged her. She stood next to me and I pointed at myself saying “Brendan” and she repeated my name. I then pointed at her and said “you?” to which she repeated me again. It’s hard to tell if she was just repeating what I was saying or if her name was Yu. She ran back to her grandmother and returned with a phone to show me a video. It was of her online English class whereby a foreign girl tried her best to keep this little girl’s attention using toys and repeating “lion...lion...elephant...elephant...” with a forced smile. I noticed that this video was 30 minutes long and as my knowledge of English animal names is already pretty good, I thought it was time to leave. I gave the girl and her grandmother a smile and left.
I walked down to Baotu Spring self-described as “the best spring in the world”. It was very nice, but the best in the world? I wasn’t so sure. Considering everyone was throwing their filthy coins into the spring it probably would be healthier to drink from Peckham Spring.
It was time for the main event and the main reason that I came to Jinan – the football. Shandong Luneng Taishan were taking on Chris Coleman’s Hebei China Fortune. It was the first time I had seen any foreigners since leaving Beijing. As Graziano Pelle warmed up I gave him the old foreigner nod – a symbol of solidarity. Imagine something similar to the Black Power salute, but for people who haven’t suffered at all.
Shandong won 3-1 with a penalty scored by Diego Tardelli (Football Manager legend) and a brace from Pelle (I can’t help but feel my presence in the stadium spurred him on). It should have been a lot worse for Hebei and I can see another relegation might be on the cards for Chris Coleman if they continue in their current form. Coleman will be feeling the pressure as his stellar reputation, after taking Wales to the European Championship semi-final, is taking a hit. Luckily, his £3.5 million a year contract will help him sleep at night.
The following morning I took the train to the coastal city of Qingdao. I didn’t know much about the city. It was once occupied by the Germans but Germany recalled their soldiers to aid their war efforts in the Second World War, which didn’t quite go to plan for them. Qingdao was then occupied by the Japanese until the 50s, but it’s most famous for China’s top-selling brand of beer – Tsingtao.
First impressions are that it’s bloody warm. I ventured out into the city, but to be honest, it was just too hot so I waited for the temperature to cool before heading to Golden Sands Beach which hosts Asia’s biggest beer festival.
When I picture a beer festival my mind goes to a warm summers afternoon sipping local craft beers under a gazebo of a small pub. But this wasn’t a quaint British affair, this is China and China does everything bigger. They have German-styled houses, a 40-foot high pint of beer, and a festival the size that could rival Glastonbury.
As I wandered through the madness I walked into one of the brewer’s tents. It was lively. Each tent had a host who welcomed singers and dancers on stage and while topless men sipped lager scantily dressed women danced. It was a haven for beer, babes, and bellies.
It was a night well spent and I looked forward to spending the following day relaxing beachside, unfortunately, the weather had other ideas. I awoke to tremendous rain. With the day's scheduled activities cancelled I sought an indoor activity and went on a tour of the Tsingtao brewery. It was interesting enough to read about the brewing process, but ultimately it is a long line of pushy, impatient Chinese tour-goers. If you didn’t already know the Chinese are hardly famed for their excellent queueing and patience. It’s hard to enjoy the tour without a sense of annoyance. I sampled some of their finer drinks, while very enjoyable it wasn’t quite what I had in mind at half past ten in the morning.
After exiting the brewery you are immediately on Qingdao’s Beer Street. I wasn’t really in the mood for further drinking, but walking down the street I noticed many vendors serving beers on the go (mainly for alcoholics with busy schedules) though they weren’t served in plastic cups, but in bags with a straw.
I’m not convinced by this phenomenon. As an Englishman, I’m used to bartenders not serving me beer in a glass as I instinctively identify the container as a throwing weapon. With a plastic cup you can still cause some distress which can instigate some violence, but drinking from a plastic bag takes all the dignity away from an angry violent Englishman. If I want to throw a beer-in-a-bag it’s no more than a glorified water balloon and that will not strike fear into opposition football fans when they’ve just knocked us out of a major football competition.
The rain eased and I wound up at Qingdao’s most popular and best beach aptly named Number 1 Bathing Beach. The rain may have temporarily stopped, but the dark clouds and crashing waves weren’t exactly setting a relaxing mood. 10 minutes there was more than ample. I killed time in a cafe waiting for my train back to Beijing.
I hadn’t been expecting much, but it had been a fun few days away. For now, it’s back to Beijing before starting my new job on Monday where I’ve been put in charge of teaching, guiding and influencing 20 nine-year-olds. Wish me and them good luck.
The irrelevant news is the content of this blog in which I travelled to Jinan and Qingdao taking in a Chinese Super League game and the Qingdao beer festival.
So I had 10 days between jobs and felt like going away somewhere, the only trouble being that it's peak summer time. A quick flight search yielded expensive results. The cheapest destination being Phuket, Thailand. I'd be doing this trip solo, so the thought of paying peak prices to spend a week feeling like a paedophile wasn't so appealing - just imagine if Elon Musk found out about it.
I then thought about heading somewhere new, an untrodden path. The relatively uncharted land of Laos came to mind, but after catching up with the flood warnings the idea of being evacuated and watching my passport get washed away isn't the ideal way to relax.
I had originally wanted to get out of China, but my options were becoming limited. I put together a plan and with a little research, I noticed I could watch a top-flight football game in the city of Jinan before heading over to the coastal city of Qingdao to relax at Asia's biggest beer festival on the beach all within 3 days. The added bonus being that I wouldn't feel an obligation to diddle kids.
The plan was set, I took the short 2-hour train journey to a very humid Jinan.
I often get asked if Chinese people stare at me and, generally in Beijing, they don’t, but once you leave a big international city that’s when you notice it. Walking around Jinan I did feel like a circus attraction, but you’ve just got to ignore it.
In the middle of the city, there is a lake named Daming Lake (I think they’re doing themselves an injustice there as it is actually very picturesque).
The sun was really beating down on me so I stopped to cool off and enjoy the view. As I enjoyed a moment of peace something caught my eye that I had never seen before. I’ve been around the block a few times and I’m nearing in on two years in China, but this shocked me. I saw the oldest woman in the world. If I had to guess she was on the wrong side of 150.
Her face was weathered, tanned, and very wrinkled. So wrinkled in fact that it looked like one of those mazes you find at the back of a TV guide. She was posing for pictures with her family and I just had to have one with her. I sidled up to them and gestured as kindly as I could and luckily she agreed. I sucked in the beer gut as I posed beside her realising I was conscious of how I looked while standing next to a 170-year-old woman.
 |
| I'm the one on the left |
I carried on further round the lake and again after about 25 minutes of walking, I took refuge from the heat in the shade. A little girl of about 3 or 4 cautiously approached me while her grandmother encouraged her. She stood next to me and I pointed at myself saying “Brendan” and she repeated my name. I then pointed at her and said “you?” to which she repeated me again. It’s hard to tell if she was just repeating what I was saying or if her name was Yu. She ran back to her grandmother and returned with a phone to show me a video. It was of her online English class whereby a foreign girl tried her best to keep this little girl’s attention using toys and repeating “lion...lion...elephant...elephant...” with a forced smile. I noticed that this video was 30 minutes long and as my knowledge of English animal names is already pretty good, I thought it was time to leave. I gave the girl and her grandmother a smile and left.
I walked down to Baotu Spring self-described as “the best spring in the world”. It was very nice, but the best in the world? I wasn’t so sure. Considering everyone was throwing their filthy coins into the spring it probably would be healthier to drink from Peckham Spring.
It was time for the main event and the main reason that I came to Jinan – the football. Shandong Luneng Taishan were taking on Chris Coleman’s Hebei China Fortune. It was the first time I had seen any foreigners since leaving Beijing. As Graziano Pelle warmed up I gave him the old foreigner nod – a symbol of solidarity. Imagine something similar to the Black Power salute, but for people who haven’t suffered at all.
Shandong won 3-1 with a penalty scored by Diego Tardelli (Football Manager legend) and a brace from Pelle (I can’t help but feel my presence in the stadium spurred him on). It should have been a lot worse for Hebei and I can see another relegation might be on the cards for Chris Coleman if they continue in their current form. Coleman will be feeling the pressure as his stellar reputation, after taking Wales to the European Championship semi-final, is taking a hit. Luckily, his £3.5 million a year contract will help him sleep at night.
The following morning I took the train to the coastal city of Qingdao. I didn’t know much about the city. It was once occupied by the Germans but Germany recalled their soldiers to aid their war efforts in the Second World War, which didn’t quite go to plan for them. Qingdao was then occupied by the Japanese until the 50s, but it’s most famous for China’s top-selling brand of beer – Tsingtao.
 |
| Only China has to put up signs not to beat the seagulls |
When I picture a beer festival my mind goes to a warm summers afternoon sipping local craft beers under a gazebo of a small pub. But this wasn’t a quaint British affair, this is China and China does everything bigger. They have German-styled houses, a 40-foot high pint of beer, and a festival the size that could rival Glastonbury.
As I wandered through the madness I walked into one of the brewer’s tents. It was lively. Each tent had a host who welcomed singers and dancers on stage and while topless men sipped lager scantily dressed women danced. It was a haven for beer, babes, and bellies.
It was a night well spent and I looked forward to spending the following day relaxing beachside, unfortunately, the weather had other ideas. I awoke to tremendous rain. With the day's scheduled activities cancelled I sought an indoor activity and went on a tour of the Tsingtao brewery. It was interesting enough to read about the brewing process, but ultimately it is a long line of pushy, impatient Chinese tour-goers. If you didn’t already know the Chinese are hardly famed for their excellent queueing and patience. It’s hard to enjoy the tour without a sense of annoyance. I sampled some of their finer drinks, while very enjoyable it wasn’t quite what I had in mind at half past ten in the morning.
 |
| Absolutely pure Tsingtao beer, much like the Aryan race |
 |
| Enjoying a cold refreshing glass of liquid bread |
I’m not convinced by this phenomenon. As an Englishman, I’m used to bartenders not serving me beer in a glass as I instinctively identify the container as a throwing weapon. With a plastic cup you can still cause some distress which can instigate some violence, but drinking from a plastic bag takes all the dignity away from an angry violent Englishman. If I want to throw a beer-in-a-bag it’s no more than a glorified water balloon and that will not strike fear into opposition football fans when they’ve just knocked us out of a major football competition.
The rain eased and I wound up at Qingdao’s most popular and best beach aptly named Number 1 Bathing Beach. The rain may have temporarily stopped, but the dark clouds and crashing waves weren’t exactly setting a relaxing mood. 10 minutes there was more than ample. I killed time in a cafe waiting for my train back to Beijing.
I hadn’t been expecting much, but it had been a fun few days away. For now, it’s back to Beijing before starting my new job on Monday where I’ve been put in charge of teaching, guiding and influencing 20 nine-year-olds. Wish me and them good luck.
