Hangzhou and the Thousand Island Lake Marathon

I made my triumphant return to Beijing (via Guangzhou for a two-week quaratine) back in August and it wasn't long before I was itching to get on the road again. 

Soon after getting back to China I started dating Hannah and she informed me that she was doing the Hangzhou half-marathon. She said that registration was closed now, so I seized the opportunity to sound heroic. "That's such a shame as I definitely would have done it with you! I'll be there to support you though!" I often make statements like these as I get to sound like a truly good guy without having to do any of the hard graft. 

I've learned not to say these kinds of things to Hannah any more as she often finds a way to make it happen. She contacted the race organisers, but was told what she already knew about the registration. Undeterred, she then contacted some of the race sponsors and found me a spot to enter. I was entered on behalf of China Insurance...I think. I had only known Hannah for a matter of weeks and now she has me signed up to run 21.1km! How do these things always seem to happen to me?

I had about 6 weeks to get fit enough to finish it. I wasn't aiming to break any records, my hope was just to get across the finish line without embarrassing myself in front of my date. Nothing puts a date off quicker than desperation and embarrassment, two things I have in abundance. 

I began with a 10km, then 15km before finally ratcheting it up to 20km a week before the race. They were long, cold nights of endless running. I really questioned how much I wanted to have sex with Hannah when I was putting in those kilometers. And these were Beijing kilometers where the air is not clean and the cold is unforgiving. I'm certain I lost a few months off my life expectancy during training. 

The race was due to take place on the morning of Sunday 1st December. We went down on the Friday night to explore Hangzhou. It's known for its scenic lakes and temples. It is truly beautiful there and continues to raise the question in me "why do I live in scummy Beijing?"

We got a good nights sleep for the race the next day as it begun at 7am. That should be enough to deter any sane people from entering. However, the people that sign up for long distance races are not sane. Each one of them had run hundreds, if not thousands of kilometers in preparation for the race. Running is their passion and this is what they train for. Running is my passion too but it usually means running from my problems. 

The race started and 10,000 people set off with an excited skip in their step. About 200m in and I realized I needed the bathroom. I had to pee at the side of the road like the dirty foreigner I am. I think I had a little too much excitement in me. 

In my training, I had managed to complete 20km in about 1 hour 55 minutes which was respectful but hard. Today, I didn’t care about the time. The run was a lot easier than the training as the adrenaline takes over. The air is much cleaner, the scenery much nicer and friendly people all around shouting encouraging words. 加油! Jiā yóu!

We did it together and when we crossed the finish line, we got notified that Hannah beat me by 0.2 seconds. Not that we’re competitive or anything. 

I thought that it was a great achievement as 400 days earlier I was lying in hospital with a broken leg wondering if I’d be able to run again (a bit overblown, I know). It allowed me to move on from that trauma and now I play football and run without any fear. 

When I crossed the finish line, I thought that it would be the one and only long-distance race I enter, but I have to say that I enjoyed it and would be tempted to do another one. In the end, I have to say thank you to Hannah for pushing me to complete it. There is no doubt that I would never have done it without her. 

Macedonia: Official Name Currently Unclear

When discussing holiday plans with my colleagues I recieved a few bewildered faces. Most were speaking of blissful travel plans to Thailand or Vietnam, conjuring up images of lying on a beach sipping cocktails. When I explained that I was travelling to Macedonia most asked "why?" Well, I was off to visit Drew, one of my close friends from the promise land of Korea. We were legends of the famous Seoul Wanderers side that triumphed in the Seoul Sunday League second division in the Spring of 2016. 

Since those golden days Drew signed up for the Peace Corps volunteer program and was placed to teach in the most southern country of the former Yugoslavia. I can't say I ever had any ambitions of travelling there, but now I had a reason to.

I didn't really know what to expect as my only knowledge of the country was Goran Pandev and his unfortunate hairline. I knew more about what not to talk about than what to talk about. Don't mention the name dispute, the Greeks, the Albanians, Alexander the Great, among other things.

Drew met me at the airport and we spent the first few days in his village of Jablanica, which boasts a population of 200 people. I was introduced to his host family and Drew explained that I'd flown in from China to which the uncle pulled his eyes back mimicing 'slanted eyes'. The grandfather was nicknamed 'Mr. Sunshine' as he has a sunnier personality after a few home-brewed rakijas. The family were very welcoming, minus the racism.

Drew filled me in on life in the village. It snows a lot there, which often results in power cuts. Electricity is expensive, especially for famers who have an average monthly household income of about 250 euros. This means that they don't have hot water as it costs too much to heat. Electricity is half price on Sundays so that's when most do laundry and take showers. Yep, showers once a week. The family are self-sufficient, growing their own food and chopping their own wood to heat their homes. Drew's most prized posession is his wood burner, which puts my life into perspective. My prized posession is my phone which I use mainly to chat up girls on Tinder. 

When we were running low on wood we would collect some more from the wood storage room which also houses the family's chickens. You step through the shed and Drew casually says "just step around the pool of blood and get some logs for the fire." Excuse me, a pool of blood? That was where the family slaughtered a pig last week. When we returned, Drew stated "looks like we're having chicken tonight." I asked him how he knew and he pointed to a bloody tree stump and a axe where the grandfather had been standing. Pools of blood seem to be normal in Drew's life. I'm such a delicate city flower that I can't deal with this life. I need to have food delivered, 24-hour bars, and less inbreeding in my life. Even when I last visited my mum back in Bedfordshire she wanted to go for a walk through the field out the back of her house. We got about 5 minutes in when we came to the tall grass, I told my mum I was heading back because I didn't want to get my new Nike Air Max 90s dirty.  

The bloody stump with an axe in the background. The cats and dogs made the most of the remains.

Even using the toilet in Macedonia is hard work. I like to take my time when it comes to going to the bathroom. You shouldn't force nature, just sit back, relax, and let it happen. But that's not possible in Macedonia. It's -5 celcius, so you've got to put on your wooly hat and scarf just to take a shit. I sat on the coldest surface I've ever sat on and I could see my breath as I tried my best to speed things along. 

Drew is hardcore. He lives in the middle of nowhere in Macedonia voluntarily. It couldn't be further removed from my life in the capital of the most populated country in the world. He speaks Macedonian for goodness sake. He walks around the village talking to all the old ladies wearing babuskas, whereas I usually make a point of not talking to any women over the age of 30.

The mist and fog never cleared. There's meant to be a great mountainous view from the village, but I never saw it.

Mr. Sunshine's car. You won't be surprised that it's not road legal.

Life in the village was fascinating and eye-opening, but after 2 days there I was more than ready to leave. Next, we visited the tourist town of Ohrid.

Ohrid is a small lake-side town which is very popular in the summer, but during the winter it was much quieter. It was pleasant to walk around and the temperature was much warmer. I was taken to all the hot-spots, taking in the beautiful view, walking through the narrow alleys and looking at the old churches. Drew told me that beside the lake there are usually Russian women sunbathing topless. As nice as my visit was to Ohrid, given the choice of seeing boring old churches or bare-breasted Russians the answer is obvious.

We met up with Drew's friend, Wade. He's a 61-year-old fellow Peace Corp volunteer and an absolute treat. He's lived the bachelor lifestyle to the maximum. He told us stories from his youth over a fair few rakijas. I'd only known him a short time, but was eager to tell me about Wanda Clack, his first sexual conquest at college in the 1970s. That dirty old dog. 

We called our time short on Ohrid due to the lack of action. We then headed for the capital city, Skopje.

A little known fact is that Skopje is Europe's most polluted city. I was relieved as all the mountain fresh air was giving me the shakes. I breathed in that wonderful carbon monoxide and was ready to take on the city. One of the main sights in Skopje is to see the excessive number of statues in the city. The Macedonian government decided not to invest funds into their education system or to improve their medical system, but to spend a shed load of cash on statues. I was told that, allegedly, the politicians set up companies that manufactured the statues. That sounds completely legit and moral. 

The Alexander the Great Statue...it's pretty controversial

We met up with Drew's girlfriend, Emma, and her friends. We sampled a few of the nightlife spots around town. The girls were dancing away to Macedonia's answer to The Beatles, I can't say it got me moving. I'm not much of a dancer, but when the moment takes me I get it done. I'll just say that when the Macedonian music was on there was one more statue in Skopje.

Overall, my trip to Macedonia was great. The people were very welcoming, kind-hearted, and funny. Emma's mum overfed me and Drew's host family opened my eyes to a different way of life. Everyone told me that I should go back in the summertime, but maybe one week was just about enough for me.

Jinan & Qingdao; Football & Beer

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.

I'm the one on the left

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.

Only China has to put up signs not to beat the seagulls

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.

Absolutely pure Tsingtao beer, much like the Aryan race

Enjoying a cold refreshing glass of liquid bread

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.