The Perks of Being a Wallflower

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

The last two days in Shenzhen were a tour de force of catch-ups. Mostly with classmates my mother had known back in her university days, or with family friends. We also had to pick my grandmother up from the airport after she was flown in from Urumqi (where she stayed with her son for a vast majority of the trip) before prepping our own bags for the return flight back to Australia.

As is almost always the case, my mother (and, to an extent, my grandmother) are the shining stars of the family. Extroverts to their core, they know people from all walks of life. And when they reunite with those they haven’t seen for years, it’s an explosion of chatter and reminisces of the past.

I am, of course, always the stranger on the outside peering in through the window. Unable to penetrate the shared experiences they have.

Of course, being the introvert that I am, it’s no real bother to me. In fact, as I’ve grown older, I’ve come to appreciate not being in the limelight and have found ways to keep myself entertained even as my mother and grandmother bask in the attention of others. For example, reading Caitlyn x Vi fanfiction on my phone. Or scanning the headlines to see what new Hell the world might have found itself in.

So it was on the bright Thursday morning, my mother and I (along with her best friend from university) headed to Shenzhen Museum in the Futian District. Though we could have taken the metro, my mother’s friend decided going via rideshare would be both more economical and time efficient. We also wouldn’t have to deal with all the pesky line changes.

Once we arrived, and having reunited my mother with her two other friends, it was like the decades since they had last each other were nonexistent. The four of them caught up with each other’s lives as we waited for the museum to open. I kept myself apart, wanting to see how the fanfiction I was reading would pan out and mostly being invisible lest I be treated like a six-year-old instead of the thirty-something I actually.

As soon as the clock struck 10 AM, we headed into the museum proper. Unfortunately, despite its size, much of it was cordoned off. Whether it was for an event or due to renovations, I could not say. Still, we enjoyed our time going through the exhibits. The first two on ground floor were devoted to wildlife across the world. Eagerly, I snapped photos of a polar bear, hyenas, moose, porcupines and all manner of wolves. There was even a honey badger!

The second floor had exhibits detailing the history of Shenzhen and the various ethnic minorities that had called Guangdong province home. As someone who considers themself a student of history, it was interesting to read up about the intersectionality of multiple cultures and ethnic minorities. From those from Canton to the Hakka, and then to the Boat Dwellers.

Their unique cultures all had a hand in shaping the traditions and culture inherent in Guangdong province. More importantly, it speaks to how society develops over time and can learn to incorporate aspects of various lifestyles as part of the whole.

Interestingly, though the Boat Dwellers were once considered ‘lesser’ and nicknamed ‘sea gypsies,’ they have since been legally acknowledged and their civil rights and status are now equal to those who live on land. This has granted them additional protection and care.

From the early roots of Guangdong province, there was also an exhibit on the history of Shenzhen and how the city became the flourishing metropolis it is today following the policy of Reform and Opening-up.

Designated as one of the earliest special economic zones in China, Shenzhen rapidly developed and urbanised into the Silicon Valley of China. Home to various firms and large corporations, skyscrapers dot the skyline. And while it does not have the history of the likes of Hong Kong, it is still a place many young people flock to for job opportunities.

Even now Shenzhen is still developing – becoming a powerhouse in innovation and technology.

But the history of Shenzhen, at least at the museum, would not have been complete without an acknowledgement to Deng Xiaoping after he became the leader of China in 1978. As Chairman, he set about overhauling China’s infrastructure and political system, allowing China to modernise after what many would describe as disruptive years during Mao’s reign.

After we had gone through the entirety of Shenzhen’s history, we headed to the nearby Book City. A series of large book shopping malls in close proximity to each other, it is considered one of the largest bookstores in the world – hosting multiple restaurants and other non-book related shops.

Of note is the Book Bar. Open 24 hours, it serves as a refuge for anyone wanting to cram an assignment or even a place to rest. And who wouldn’t, surrounded by all those books? To my disappointment, actual English titles were few and far between and I was unable to pick up a stray holiday book to keep me company (that said, I was still reading The Constant Gardener by John Le Carre).

We had lunch in one of the restaurants and I took some time to peruse the shelves as my mother chatted with her old friends. Including another of her old classmates who had just flown into Shenzhen from Kashi (also known as Kashgar) in Xinjiang. A lecturer at university, he had also written books on key economic policies.

It was during this meeting of the minds that my mother learned my grandmother’s flight from Urumqi was delayed. As a consequence, she cancelled the dinner she had originally planned and we joined her classmate later at Baidu International Building (a search engine most of China uses as Google is blocked). The other guests in attendance, to our chagrin, were his many students.

To say it was an awkward affair is an understatement.

Thankfully, we did not stay long. It wasn’t long before my mother and I were headed to Shenzhen airport to pick up my grandmother (and to check-in at the Hyatt Regency situated right outside the airport.

The second day was a quiet affair. I spent of it playing Owlboy as we waited for our evening flight back to Australia. At around 11:30, more friends of the family (ones my mother and grandmother knew back in Xinjiang and who are complete strangers to me) came to visit from Zhuhai. After they’d chatted, we headed over to Hyatt Place, located on the opposite side of the airport, to have lunch with another family friend.

Before too long, we’d packed up the rest of our bags and headed to the airport proper (a short walk across a pedestrian bridge away). Once again, I got to enjoy the luxuries bestowed upon me as someone seated in business class. Yet despite the ability to lie down, I slept poorly during the flight and resorted to watching a few films (Paddington 2 and The Greatest Showman) to pass the time.

It was 6:23 AM when we landed back in Sydney, Australia. And I, for one, was glad to be back on home soil.

Though China remains the land where my family is from, it’s Australia I’ve come to love and feel most comfortable in. More importantly, Australia is where my friends and those who matter to me are. While it does have its faults (there are times I wish it would be more progressive in its social policies, for if it aped those in the Nordic countries, we might have less of an issue with recidivism and high prison populations), there’s a familiarity and freedom to living here.

That said, the prospect of returning to the office the day after next filled me with dread. Why had I chosen not to take a few days extra off work?

And so ended my visit to see my relatives, and to enjoy a little fun along the way. What started as a summer holiday was now well and truly over (and thank goodness for that. The humidity was an absolute killer).

Rush Hour

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Hong Kong. A bustling port city that was once ceded to the British before its return to China in 1997 has always been a place I’ve romanticised in my head. Especially with the amount of movies that have used it as a backdrop. Then, of course, there was Sleeping Dogs, a video game where one played as Wei Shen, undercover cop, and was able to run around a digital version of Hong Kong for several hours on end.

Originally a farming and fishing village, the Hong Kong we know now is one of the most significant financial centres and commercial ports in the whole world. While some of its lustre has since faded, it still stands as a symbol of all that came before.

After an exhausting day out in Hong Kong Disneyland, followed by us scrambling to reach the accommodation we booked, the day before, my mother and I woke late. Though we would be decamping from Hong Kong and be returning to Shenzhen by late evening, there was still plenty of time for us to explore the city that had once captured my imagination like no other (besides, Shenzhen was only a short fifteen minute ride via high speed train).

Of course, wishing to start the morning on the right foot, and with no breakfast included for our hotel stay, the two of us headed to a nearby cafe called NOC Whampoa Garden. I ordered a hot chocolate and a pulled pork sando. My mother, on the other hand, went with a ham and cheese sando and a cappucino with one sugar.

But what amused me was the fact the menu did not sport an Americano but rather offered Long Black. It made me wonder if the owner, or chef, was Australian or had visited Australia. While reddit would have me believe there are slight differences, I, as someone who is not a coffee afficionado believe they’re the same thing. After all, I’m not tempted to get one either way.

Hot chocolate every day, all day. As my friends would know.

Once we’d finished up, we returned to the the Harbour Grand Kowloon to finish our usual morning ablutions before checking out, our overnight bags slung over our shoulders.

Before heading out, though, we exchanged some renminbi my mother had into Hong Kong dollars. Then it was off to Whampoa metro station. But not before we paid a brief visit to one of my favourite stores in the entire world. I mean, who can forget the catchy tune? I know bleachpanda would never. Not with me constantly singing it during our trip to Japan.

Yes, that’s right. DON QUIJOTE! Or, I suppose: Don Don: Donki!

After my mother picked up a few five-toed socks, and I had a glance at what they in stock, we headed to the station proper and set out for our first actual tourist site of the day: Victoria Harbour. Separating the island of Hong Kong from the Kowloon Peninsula, Victoria is both a major trading hub and a tourist attraction for those in Hong Kong.

My mother and I started off at the Avenue of Stars – taking our time to meander along the waterfront and taking photos of both the island of Hong Kong on the opposite shore and taking a peek at the handprints set, not on the footpath, but rather the handrail. There was even a facsimile of Bruce Lee – an icon in kungfu films of old.

From the Avenue of Stars, we walked past the Hong Kong Space Museum and the Hong Kong Cultural Centre before rounding the bend to take pictures of the Former Kowloon-Canton Railway Clock Tower. As the Ocean Terminal shopping centre was close by, I also took a gander at the Pop Mart within (purchasing two more Digimon fridge magnets along with two of Monster x One Piece blind boxes).

Yes. Despite all my protestations, I, too, have fallen into the trap that is the blind box market. And no, it’s not gambling addiction. I can stop. I have stopped.

Well, unless there are Disney Lorcana cards. But that’s neither here nor there. And booster packs AREN’T blind boxes. Yes, I can’t see what cards I’ll get but…

Hey. Wait. Where are you taking me?

Unhand me you buffoons!

Sorry. Where was I? Ah, yes. That’s right. Hong Kong.

Once I’d indulged my proclivity for not-gambling, my mother and I took a taxi over to Hong Kong so we could a tram up towards Victoria Peak (or as close as we could. Alas, we did not get to frolic in the garden). Up the funicular railway climbed. And if I thought I’d managed to escape the insidious influence of Disney, I would have been sorely disappointed for the tram itself had Mickey and the gang both at the stations as well as within the tram itself.

And what a sight it was to see the funicular climb up t the mountain until it reached The Peak Tower | Sky Terrace 428. Given we’d bought the combo ticket, my mother and I took a gander up on the roof – snapping photos left, right and centre as we looked out over Hong Kong and back over Kowloon.

We had lunch in the nearby shopping complex: The Peak Galleria. Or, it should be rightly said, I had lunch. Mother wasn’t feeling all that hungry. Worse, she was terse to the staff at Asam Chicken Rice because they had no free wifi. I tried to calm her down but to no avail. Instead, I quietly finished off my lunch before offering my apologies to the staff when I paid them later.

Then it was back down the mountain.

Before we did, however, I paid a visit to the local Messina. Unlike the stores in Australia, it had a location specific: Egg Tart flavour. Knowing it wouldn’t meet my lofty expectations abut not wanting to miss this opportunity to try something a little bit different, I went and bought a scoop to try – sharing it with my mother.

Back down the funicular we went.

As we wandered towards the central business district of Hong Kong, my mother wanted to take a ride on the unique trams found only in Hong Kong. Narrow and featuring double decks, it was certainly an experience to ride on them. We didn’t stay long, on them, however, as we quickly disembarked about three stops along the ride (not that we could have ridden them too far if we wanted to keep within reach of key tourist sites).

Off we hopped, right in the centre of Hong Kong, before speeding over to visit a bustling shopping street known commonly as Stone Slabs Street for the uneven granite stone steps it has. Lined with cheap market stalls, we took a quick look before heading further along Pottinger Street and then taking a right turn onto Hollywood Road to visit Man Mo temple.

The temple was built approximately between 1847 and 1862 by wealthy Chinese merchants to worship the God of Literature and the God of Martial Arts. Its structure is a two-hall-three-bay fronted by two granite drum platforms. Following traditional architecture layout, the rear hall housing the altars of the deities is also higher than the front hall, which are separated by a courtyard.

In 1908, the temple was officially entrusted to Tung Wah Hospital. Every ear, the Board of Directors congregate for the Autumn Sacrificial rites to pay homage to the gods as well as pay for prosperity. And, in 2010, the Man Mo Temple compound was declared a monument under the Antiquities and Monuments Ordinance.

Or so said the plaque out front that I took a picture of while there.

It wasn’t long before the two of us were heading back to the metro station, passing a supposedly famous fortune teller in a side street, as we did so.

Before too long, we arrived at Hong Kong-Kowloon station. One high speed rail ticket to Shenzhen later, along with passing through immigration and having our bags all scanned, we were back in mainland China.

My sojourn to the mother country was finally coming to an end.

Another One Bites the Dust

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With less than a week to go before returning to Australia, my trip to China was slowly coming to a close. It was with a wistful heart that I bid goodbye to Shanghai as I boarded the plane to Shenzhen. Less than two hours later (and really, it was only long enough for me to fit in the first Paddington movie), we touched down.

Shenzhen sits on the east bank of the Pearl River. Designated a special economic zone when China began to open back up again in the 80s, it is the third most populous city by urban population in China. Given its a leading global technology hub, this came as no surprise. And given all the skyscrapers – and one that looks suspiciously like The Gherkin in London – it’s a modern marvel.

But, more importantly, it’s a touch north of Hong Kong.

Once we arrived, my cousin, the one who took me to Tianchi with his wife and mum) picked us up. As he drove us to where we were staying, the urban planner in him pointed out key sights in and around the bustling city.

Rather than stay in a hotel, though, my mother and I would be staying two nights at the home of her friend from university. While this feels a little strange to me, it’s important to note the strong connections many in China make during these years living in a shared dormitory. Something that my having grown up in Australia has never been able to replicate.

The bond my mother shares with her friends is almost sisterly in nature. More importantly, it seems to transcend the bounds of distance, time and even generations (as the courtesy was also extended to me – someone who they don’t really know much at all).

Once we had settled, my cousin invited us out for some Spanish fare. Though delicious, I did mourn the lack of churros as a dessert choice.

However, given this leg of the journey was still to tour Hong Kong, my mother and I hopped on a coach down at Shenzhen port that would take us directly to Hong Kong Disneyland the very next day. Given Hong Kong is still considered a special administrative region, we were still required to go through immigration and have our passports stamped before we were allowed to head on through.

Despite all the paperwork, we still arrived at Hong Kong Disneyland before the gates had opened. Once we were through, we headed first to Tomorrowland (right after we managed to find a locker to stuff with our overnight bags). Our first ride of the day, with only a purported wait time of five minutes, was Ant-Man and The Wasp: Nano Battle! Once I’d shown off my excellent shooting skills, we partook of the Iron Man Experience (or, as the ride itself liked to call it, the Stark Expo), followed swiftly by Hyperspace Mountain (the only Star Wars related ride).

Unlike the one in Shanghai, Hong Kong Disneyland had a lot more stalls and rides that were closed. This, however, did not dampen my enthusiasm as my mother and I headed over to Fantasyland. The first item on our list? Mickey and the Wondrous Book. And I must say, the performance was great.

It probably helped that the performers sang in English. But it also helped that when characters spoke in Cantonese, there were also subtitles on display that one could read. While it did detract from watching the people on stage, it was helpful to get a sense of the story. If only they had such facilities in ALL of the parks (something I felt would have been useful while in Japan – and for anyone who didn’t know Chinese Mandarin while in Shanghai). Heavens know what Disneyland Paris will be like but maybe I’ll just nod along and get away with muttering “d’accord: under my breath.

After the show, my mother and I were funnelled into the most hellish ride of them all: ‘it’s a small world.’ As with before, the wait time was minimal as we headed on inside and took a boat journey through the various parts of the world. Admittedly, I did like all the Disney character cameos in each part of the world: from Peter Pan flying up high to Simba jamming out to Hakuna Matata in the Africa section.

From ‘its a small world,’ we headed over to Hong Kong Disneyland’s unique land of Arendelle. After going on Wandering Oaken’s Sliding Sleighs, my mother and I enjoyed a late lunch at the Golden Crocus Inn.

Unfortunately, most of the other rides in and around Arendelle were closed. Whether it was due to the weather, renovations or just to change them up, I couldn’t say. I did, however, manage to catch a glimpse of Elsa teaching the kids in attendance how to use ice magic.

Truly, a magical moment.

Once we had checked out the entirety of Arendelle, my mother and I headed back to Fantasyland and took a gander at all the rides, along with the castle itself. None, though, caught our eye as a vast majority were targeted at young children not looking for anything to pump up the adrenaline.

From there, it was a quick jaunt to Hong Kong’s Adventure Isle section of the park where they also had nestled their own Toy Story land (with much of the same rides as Shanghai Disneyland – except instead of Woody’s Roundup, they had Toy Soldier Parachute Drop). Not keen to fall from any height, my mother and I headed to the next section of the park: Mystic Point.

But while we gawked and gaped at the Garden of Wonders, we ultimately chose to also skip the Mystic Manor (likely because of the hot weather – though cooler than Shanghai) and the need to wait for thirty minutes before we could get in (usually a norm for theme parks but after enjoying such quick wait times earlier in the day – and because we were told Hong Kong Disneyland only takes half a day to get through – we were trying to rush through the end). Instead, we headed into Grizzly Gulch and enjoyed the thrilling Big Grizzly Mountain Runaway Mine Cars ride. With the sudden stops and the drop halfway through, speeding us backwards, I like to think it was one of my mother’s favourites given how much she screamed her head off.

Afterwards, we watched the Lion King festival, a cliff notes version of the actual film, with songs from the movie thrown in. By then, we were thoroughly tired and chose not to go on the Jungle Cruise. That said, I did get to admire Tarzan’s treehouse from the distance.

To my dismay, we also missed out on the Moana performance. Something I only really noticed when we were chosen to complete a survey for Hong Kong Disneyland (although, if I were to ever go again – maybe with a friend or two in tow – it may be worth it. I’m looking at you, bleachpanda!).

Tired, and wanting to get to the hotel we were staying at a reasonable hour, we muddled our way through taking the Hong Kong metro. Though we faced a few difficulties – namely that we had forgotten to change some of our currency to Hong Kong dollars and we had no Oyster card (they didn’t accept credit card payment and neither mainland WeChat pay or Alipay worked), we had to resort to using my mother’s credit cards to tap on and off (my travel money card also wasn’t recognised).

Still, we managed to arrive at Harbour Grand Kowloonwith minimal fuss (besides a short argument on the metro). Once we had checked in and settled into the room, we headed up to the pool and took in the sights of Hong Kong at night.

Not feeling all that hungry for dinner, my mother and I then headed out to grab some late night dessert on the main thorough of Whampoa Garden. Unfortunately, not all stores accepted credit (and we still had no cash), so we had to pick and choose where we could dine.

Still, it was a packed day out and the two of us were glad to retire in our swanky hotel room afterwards.

Wet Weather Warning

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As Sydney enjoyed a warm Sunday with a protest or three, along with a marathon, I was still in Shanghai, suffering through the heat. However, the blue sky with its big white fluffy clouds was not to last. Indeed, as one colleague from work would most likely describe it, the heavens opened and the biblical floodgates yawned wide for nigh on two hours – soaking everything in its path, threatening to even engulf the high ground.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Our last day in Shanghai was a slow, lazy one. After traipsing through Disneyland the day before, it was a necessary reset before our flight to Shenzhen (and the eventual return to Australia).

Given we were in Shanghai, one of the things my mother wanted to do was attend a show. Any show. Be it ballet, musical or even a play. In the end, we headed over to the People’s Square where my mother stopped by the Shanghai Grand Theatre. At the time, there was a ballet performance she could attend.

As I wasn’t quite as big a fan of the ballet than I was musicals or other shows – and given the price for just a single ticket – I chose not to partake. Still, my mother was delighted to purchase her own for a showing at 2 PM.

With the morning still young, my mother and I paid a visit to the nearby Shanghai Museum. Entry, of course, was free though we needed to both present our passports so that the authorities could ID us. Then, once our bags were also scanned to ensure we weren’t carrying anything dangerous, the two of us were free to explore the building.

Now, I hate to say this, but I did find the Shanghai Museum almost lacklustre when it came to what was on display. And admittedly, I regret the two of us didn’t venture to the Shanghai Natural History Museum (given it’s one of the largest museums of natural science in China).

The Shanghai Museum, though, did have a few items on display though none really caught my eye except for artifacts carved from rhino horns. The other collections they had were of enamel lacquerware, a presentation on the various ethnic minorities that can be found in China, some furniture and little else.

Before too long, my mother and I had finished our tour. After enjoying a quick coffee break in the adjoining cafe, we ventured back out into the summer heat to have some lunch. Of course, when one is in Shanghai, one must have food that is decidedly NOT Chinese. So, being a fan of Japanese, the two of us had some ramen.

By the time we finished, it was almost time for my mother’s show to begin. She hurried over to the Grand Theatre while I stayed in the shopping centre to have a look around. And, honestly, I have to say that the DMALL (or, according to Google: the Shanghai Dimei Shopping Mall) was yet another otaku’s wet dream. Numerous stores inside had collectibles for anime or video games from Japan. More importantly, it also had costume stores where one could buy cosplay of Judy Hopps and also sported collections ranging from lolita to goth (and even a combination of the two).

Once I’d seen my fill of what DMALL had to offer, I ventured back outside only to see the ground slick and shiny. As I headed back down People’s Square towards our hotel, it began to drizzle.

Yet knowing there was a local Pop Mart, I stopped at the Raffles City shopping centre. There, I made a few purchases at Uniqlo, browsed the stores inside and watched dance groups compete against each other. It may not have been a sophisticated ballet performance but I was certainly entertained.

Unfortunately, as I wrapped up my shopping in Raffles City, I was soon faced with the start of some torrential rain. Without an umbrella in hand (that was in my mother’s keeping), I had to take shelter in an office building that abutted Raffles City shopping centre.

For an hour, I stood inside waiting for the storm to abate. It even began to seep into the building through an opening somewhere close to the entrance (which then had to be mopped up by cleaning staff and sandbags were brought out). By the time it hit 4 PM, the storm had mostly cleared but it was still drizzling out. Seeing a few people head out, I tried to test my luck only to be faced by ankle-height water once you stepped onto the road to cross.

Unsure when it would subside and fearing I could be trapped – unable to move – for the foreseeable future, I stood frozen on the side of the road.

The dilemma I found myself in was further exacerbated by the return of heavy rain. Cursing under my breath, I chose to wade through (keeping my shoes on in the process because the thought of taking them off and walking barefoot on a dirty grimy street did not appeal to me. Not when the water smelled like sewerage).

When I finally returned to the hotel, I was akin to a drowned rat. Cold, miserable and needing to strip off my sodden clothes.

Once I’d emerged from my shower, the rain had stopped. Glancing out the window, it seemed the floodwaters had ALSO subsided (to my great chagrin).Probably, I should have returned to the office building and continued to wait it out. But at the time, I was not forearmed with this knowledge and had to make-do with my choices at the time.

Hindsight is 20-20 but it doesn’t take into account one’s limited knowledge at the time.

Or so I used to console myself as I washed my clothes and tried my best to rinse my drenched shoes. By then, my mother was able to return with nary a stray drop of rain on her head.

After a short break, we headed back out into a Shanghai that was less sweltering to have some dinner, and to round off our visit with some further shopping on Nanjing Road (yes, I ventured once more into Pop Mart and was assailed by how many other people were also perusing the shelves looking to buy merchandise).

So ended our last day in Shanghai.

The morrow would see us flying out as we continued on our grand adventure.

Third Happiest Place on Earth

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Although my visit to China was primarily to pay my grandparents a visit it also came with the stipulation to cross off a few things off my bucket list. Including, of course, the attending of the Disneylands at both Shanghai and Hong Kong. I am, after all, a self-proclaimed Disney afficionado. Raised through, and by, the films during my childhood (my mother even claims they were my babysitters while she prepared dinner in the evenings).

So, after a less than restful night, my mother and I hopped onto the Shanghai Metro to head, bright and early, to Shanghai Disney Resort. As well as the wonders beyond.

But first, I do feel compelled to advise that despite the convenient nature of the metro, my main gripe with the system is the requirement to have one’s bags scanned for possible explosives. This, of course, isn’t limited just to metro lines but to the airports as well. To me, it feeds an undercurrent of fear though I’ve not heard of any untoward actions made against the myriad forms of transport in China.

Once we arrived at Shanghai Disneyland, I was immediately taken in by its manicured lawn, the entryway leading on, and the castle off in the distance. Much like the other Disneylands, there was also a need to have our bags checked. But whereas fingerprints were required for Disneyworld in Florida, Shanghai Disneyland, much like the rest of China, relied on facial recognition.

Our first destination once we had entered? Adventure Isle!

My plan was to tackle the park by going anti-clockwise around it. A decent enough plan as any – leaving Tomorrowland for last. But while I could have gone the other way, the rides I was able to see from the app I downloaded seemed to paint Adventure Isle as the place to go. So, off my mother and I trotted to the first ride: Roaring Rapids.

Being a water ride, though, there were staff selling ponchos. Yet, unlike the rest of China, the vendor only accepted cash. Thankfully, my mother had a few bills in hand. In exchange, we received two disposable ponchos to keep us fairly dry while we splashed around on the makeshift river.

That said, I do believe I should pull you aside, dear reader, to advise that should one visit China their main form of payment is through their phone. But whereas we here in Australia have it linked to our credit cards, those in the Middle Kingdom use Alipay or WeChat pay to do so. To pay, they can either scan a QR code or have their own scanned by the vendor.

Though a foreign bank card can be linked for payment, they cannot be used to top up a set balance for use. If one is lucky enough to have a relative in China with a bank account in the country, however, they can issue a relative card with a set amount to be used. Payments can be deducted from that without incurring international transaction fees (that said, mine were waived until the end of December).

Equipped with ponchos, which we then slipped on as we approached the start of the ride, I was more than ready to tackle my first ride of the day. And what a thrilling ride it was! Though, I must say, I was disappointed we didn’t get more wet from hitting the rapids and having it hit us from above. Rather, the water simply sloshed in from the side during inopportune moments when our circular raft would bop against the prop rocks.

It would have been wiser to have placed plastic around my shoes rather than my toros. For, after the ride was over, and I peeled off the poncho, I was drenched head from toe in sweat.

Taking the lead once more (now that I was in my element at Disneyland), my mother and I ventured further through Adventure Isle. We rested briefly as an outdoor band (the Disney Explorer Band) performed a few choice pieces from the Disney vault, watched Eye of the Storm: Captain Jack’s Stunt Spectacular, then powered through two additional rides: Soaring Over the Horizon and Pirates of the Caribbean: Battle for the Sunken Treasure.

That said, I have to say Soaring Over the Horizon was a little on the nose with its tourist marketing for Shanghai. Having the Disney wishing star arc across the Shanghai landscape? Really? And the footage of Sydney harbour being from a decade ago? Shame, Disney!

Lunch was had at Barbossa’s Bounty still in Treasure Cove. Once we had eaten our fill, we headed towards Fantasyland but briefly diverted to Zootopia (the specifically built land for Shanghai Disneyland – and which explained all the Judy Hopps and Nick Wilde cosplays I was seeing around the park. That said, Zootopia 2 is set to release in November this year so…). There, we enjoyed Zootopia: Hot Pursuit with the likes of Nick and Judy to rescue pop star sensation Gazelle from the clutches of the evil Bellweather.

With Bellweather back behind bars, my mother and I entered fantasyland proper. We listened to the stylings of the Travelling Troubadours before heading over to watch the Frozen: A Sing-Along Celebration. Of course, being the Frozen fan I am, I knew how to sing almost all the songs (which were a smattering collection from both the original Frozen and its sequel). Unfortunately, the songs were sung in Chinese Mandarin. As I couldn’t read the lyrics that were on screen, I just sang them in English (after all, I’d memorised them).

It was still amusing to hear the hired actors, though, speak with strong foreign accents. They were clearly not native Chinese speakers. Presumably, though, they had been trained to still sing the songs in Chinese flawlessly.

Once I’d ruined my throat, my mother and I headed down towards Tomorrowland (but not before traipsing through the Alice in Wonderland Maze). Along the way, we stopped by Toy Story Land where we enjoyed Woody’s Roundup and pondered if we ought to line up for Rex’s Racer. In the end, though, we decided to head to Tomorrowland where we enjoyed a round of Buzz Lightyear Planet Rescue before following it up with TRON Lightcycle Power Run. And given TRON: Ares is also releasing THIS year, it would have been a crime not to.

By the time we emerged from our last ride, it was nearing 7 PM. My mother and I grabbed a quick dinner at Pinocchio Village Kitchen (I wanted to try out some pizza), before heading back to our hotel.

While we could have stayed to watch the fireworks, I was already tuckered out from an intense day of rides, thrills and summer heat. Perhaps we could have stayed a little while longer browsing the stores for merchandise I could bring home but I was limited by the luggage my mother needed to bring back home with her. As it was, I managed to procure for myself a tricorn hat (and if the quality is a little subpar, who was I to judge? I have a tricorn hat that I can wear now on the odd occasion)!

Suffice it to say, Shanghai Disneyland would probably rank quite high among the Disneylands I’ve been to by virtue of the fact I can actually understand Chinese Mandarin and did not feel terribly lost when the characters in shows or on rides started spouting dialogue (whereas in Japan, I was completely clueless). In terms of size, I feel like it’s on par with Universal Studios in Osaka and has plenty of things for the casual Disney fan to enjoy.

The only downside? No Star Wars.

But more importantly, no Disney Lorcana cards for me to buy and feed to my ever growing collection.

And after one booster box each for the eight (now nine sets but Fabled is primarily reprints with the occasional Dumbo and The Goofy Movie tie-ins), my collection is a veritable treasure trove of all the classic animated Disney films.

Two more to go!

Side note: never visit in the summer. Ever.

The Orient Pearl Adventure

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

When people think Shanghai, most think of the picture perfect Bund and the riverside walk beside it. And on my first night in Shanghai (granted, I’ve been to Shanghai before but was limited in playing actual tourist) with my mother in tow, the Bund and Nanjing Road were exactly where we went to take in the sights and sounds. If only it were not so gosh darn hot and humid!

In fact, stepping off the plane, my immediate regret was that we hadn’t already returned to the wintry climes of Australia. The wrongness was further magnified when the rideshare car pulled up at the wrong hotel and we had to wait for another. Even then, the hotel my mother initially booked was less than stellar. It was far from all the amenities we would be heading out to see and looked more rundown than lush and lavish.

Having tired from the time spent with my extended family in Xinjiang, I was chomping on the bit to actually start holidaying in bliss. Once we’d shed our luggage, we headed to the main thoroughfare of Nanjing Road (a forty or so minute drive from the hotel we were currently staying at. During the drive, my mother cancelled our stay for the next three nights and as we enjoyed our dinner, booked a new hotel much closer to where we were actually going. It was also closer to the metro station).

Once we arrived, we set about finding a place to dine. This ended up being at Hongyi Plaza where we enjoyed some simple fare. Though I’d eaten on the four hour flight over, it hadn’t been quite as filling as I’d hoped (that said, I did watch Sonic and Sing 2). After dinner, we headed down the wrong direction – passing by Miniso Land, a SEGA store and animate (a store I thought was Japan only) before realisation struck. Then it was an about turn as we headed back east towards Waitan, the famous waterfront area of Shanghai with its blend of European architecture and iconic skyscraper heavy skyline.

What I had not anticipated, however, were the sheer number of people in attendance. Despite the hour, and the perpetual heat, Waitan and Nanjing Road had an ocean of heaving bodies. Suffice it to say, my mother and I enjoyed a stroll down towards the pier before taking a taxi back to our hotel.

The next day, we woke late. After checking out, we hopped once more into another rideshare car and took it to our new hotel for the rest of our stay in Shanghai. Once we’d unpacked the necessities, it was back out onto the streets.

Our destination? Shanghai Tower.

The tallest building in China, it stands at 632 metres and is situated at the heart of Lujiazui, Pudong. It officially opened in 2015, it began construction in 2008. Equipped with one of the fastest lifts, we reached near the top within a minute or so.

And though my mother and I vacillated between it and the Oriental Pearl TV Tower, Shanghai Tower won out because it it was higher and we would be able to look down at it from the observation deck. Even bleachpanda knows I seek out the high point in every city I visit so I can look out and enjoy a bird’s eye view.

I blame all the time I’ve played the Assassin’s Creed series. Because while I won’t ever be able to do a Leap of Faith, I can still head up high to survey the nearby landscape.

While we were at Shanghai Tower, my mother and I enjoyed a hot drink and a passionfruit red velvet cake. A treat for the trekking we’d done earlier in the morning. But also, who wouldn’t want a nice little snack while looking out on the sprawling city beneath them? If Altair or Ezio could pack a sandwich perked on the top of a roof, I’m sure they’d do so.

Evie Frye would know what I mean. She’s British, after all.

After we had drunk our fill of the sight, mother and I headed back down. Stopping briefly at a 7-11, we enjoyed a quick lunch of sandwiches and vegetarian bao. Alas, it is only at time of writing up this post that I’ve realised we missed out on checking out the flagship Disney store that was also nearby.

Nevertheless, Yu Yuan (also known as Yuyuan Garden) was our next stop.

We stopped by a local temple before wending our way through the shopping complex to the Jiuqu Bridge. What surprised me were the promotional material for a video game also evident on display. But I suppose they were trying to modernise and bring in a younger clientele to the site.

It wasn’t long before we headed into Yuyuan Garden proper. First built in 1559 during the Ming Dynasty, it is located in the northeast part of the Old City of Shanghai in Huangpu District. But while Wikipedia tells me the grounds were designed to be a complex set of different gardens with the Exquisite Jade Rock to serve at its centrepiece, I took more pleasure in admiring the architecture. Of particular interest were the two dragons playing with a pearl.

Once we’d wandered through the entirety of the garden (and did some light shopping), we headed back to the hotel to rest. Before too long, it was dinner time. My mother and I found a place that served xiaolongbaos – a delicacy straight from Shanghai and enjoyed our fill (though they can also be found in abundance in Sydney) – before she soon retired for the night.

I, on the other hand, was keen to keep exploring. Knowing there was an animate and SEGA store in Shanghai, I headed back along Nanjing Road to check out what merchandise they had on offer. Suffice it to say, I spent quite a pretty penny on Like a Dragon badges and a few Persona 5 standees. Then there was a Dungeon Meshi blind box I bought. While I’d had my eyes set on getting a squishable Senshi head, Marcille was who i got instead.

But what took me by surprise was the fact the department store had a MUGIWARA store! And even a NARUTO CAFE (otherwise known as Ichiraku Ramen)!

it was like I’d gone back to Japan! But without bleachpanda next to me, I had to admit the weeb in this instance was me.

Before too long, I returned back to the hotel with a smattering of merchandise in tow. While I could have bought more at the time, DISNEYLAND was waiting.

Murder on the Cableway Express

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

As someone who has always wanted to ape the great Sherlock Holmes, I’ve always liked to sit and observe those around me. While it’s not as quaint as sussing out if someone passes the ‘vibe check’ as per Gen Z slang or as astute as the way the detective is able to deduce the brand of cigarettes a person smokes simply by the ash they find on the side of the road, I like to think I’m a dab hand at reading those around me to a fairly accurate degree.

So it was that when asked who was more inclined to murder the other atop a cableway up on Maya Mountain, which overlooks Tianchi Lake, I felt compelled to offer up my deduction. Suffice it to say, my response seemed to surprise both my aunt and cousin.

But first, some context!

During some downtime between my next grand adventure and the visit I paid to my elderly grandparents, my cousin and aunt saw fit to take me out to see the sights and sounds of Xinjiang. One particular point of interest not too far from the city of Urumqi is Tianchi. Translated to Heavenly Lake, it is an an alpine lake located in the Tian Shan Mountain range.

Tian Shan, itself, is supposedly the seventh highest mountain range in Eurasia (although someone will probably need to fact check me) and runs between China, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. According to Wikipedia, its highest peak is Jengish Chokusu and its lowest point is the Turpan Depression. Formed from the collision of the Indian and Eurasion tectonic plates, it is also part of the Himalayan orogenic belt.

My aunt and cousin picked me up via taxi from the hotel I was staying at. Earlier in the day, my mother had left on a short trip to Alar with Popo in Aksu Prefecture. The reason? Popo had wanted to see the sights of the place she had lived in during the Cultural Revolution and see if much had changed. As for me, I was to stay for a few more days in Urumqi until my mother returned and we could finally head out on a proper trip to a few places I wanted to cross off my bucket list.

From the hotel, the taxi took us to the airport where my cousin had rented a hire car. Once we had located the SUV Volkswagen, my cousin offered his wife the option to drive. But though she managed to get it started, he soon took over (deeming her driving subpar). before we’d even left the carpark. This, of course, was before he’d even set the navigation (which was the one thing she wanted as she had no idea where to go).

All throughout the drive, the two of them bickered in the front two seats. According to my aunt, the two of them bantered quite a lot though there were moments my cousin would take it too far.

This, I saw in spades during the hour long drive to Tianchi.

Even as we parked and headed in through the entrance, I quietly watched the dynamic between them. And so, once we up on the cableway and I was asked to use my criminology prowess to decide the likely culprit in a murder, I was quick to indicate it would be the quiet introvert wife who would end up murdering my cousin if he wasn’t careful. After all, I’d endured many a death threat from bleachpanda while we were in Japan and South Korea despite my fairly innocent japes.

This, of course, was during the return trip back down the cableway where we’d bonded over the arduous hike up to the second observation platform and had enjoyed a moment’s rest at the overpriced cafe (to my vast disappointment, hot chocolate was not an option and I had to make do with hot milk instead. Which, to be fair, was better than the caffeinated hazelnut latte).

Once we’d drunk our fill of the wonderful sights and sounds of Tianchi, we hopped back into the car. Curious about my cousin’s claims regarding the less than stellar performance of the hire car in question, I gave it a bit of a whirl in the carpark before deferring to my cousin’s wife.

Now that she was behind the wheel for the second time, however, she refused to relinquish control. The drive back across the highway was a hair-raising experience but not as terrifying as the adrenaline-filled close-calls we had during peak hour traffic within the city of Urumqi itself. There were so many times I thought another car would clip the hire car. Yet, despite the fact I’d kept a tight hand on the handle, we arrived back at my grandparents’ house unscathed.

Still, it might take me some time before I trust her behind the wheel. Though, I have to say, my cousin was probably the more scared out of all four of us in the car. And when he’s stressed, his voice rises. Another sure sign that the reason why the two of them sometimes end up fighting is because he needs to learn some tact when it comes to conversing with his wife.

After all, the adage does go: Happy Wife, Happy Life.

Or maybe they’ll seek a marriage counsellor in the future. Who knows.

Certainly not me.

Suffice it to say, my cousin was not found dead in my aunt’s house the next day. Rather, the two headed out early to catch a flight so they could return to Shenzhen.

I, on the other hand, was required to relocate from the hotel and stay an entire afternoon with little stimulation in my grandparents’ house as officials wished to grant to my grandfather a medal to commemorate 80 years since the end of World War II.

Admittedly, I would have liked to have spent another day with my cousin to see the sights and sounds of Xinjiang but given the responsibilities he had at work, it was a little difficult to extend his break. Even during our trip to Tianchi, he was on a call with his underlings back in the office, painstakingly going over the PowerPoint presentation they had created for some project or other.

A day after, my mother returned with Popo in tow.

The adventure was about to begin.

The Secret of Longevity

On By kyndarisLeave a comment

Despite advances in medical science, living to your 80s is still a difficult feat when life can throw all manner of curve balls. But getting to 99 (or, as many in East Asian countries see it, 100), is still almost impossible in this day and age. Even with filthy billionaires trying to game the system with expensive sauna trips and research into cryogenics.

My grandparents (on my father’s side), it must be said, never had any of that. Theirs was a hard life.

The two of them met during the Korean War (with my grandfather having also fought in the Second World War). Then, after marriage, the two of them were repatriated to the far-flung corner of Xinjiang following Liberation. The two of them faced famine, hard labour and uncertain futures. Yet though they might look fragile from the outside as they shuffle forward and dodder about the past, I can’t help but wonder if they have truly unlocked the secrets of immortality.

The journey over to Urumqi, Xinjiang, was an arduous one that involved a late flight on a Friday evening. It meant arriving in Guangzhou at about 5 AM (local time) in the morning before transferring to another five hour long domestic flight. Akin to flying to Perth from Sydney.

That said, I did travel in luxury. And by that I mean I headed on over to China in business (though not entirely by choice. Given my ageing grandma – on my mother’s side – was also heading over, I was required to upgrade to keep her company). Yes, dear reader. You read it correctly. BUSINESS.

Unfortunately, even with the ability to actually sleep lying down, I felt like I mostly microslept/ napped my way over. There was no proper night’s rest for me. And how could I have enjoyed it when we were woken up for breakfast at 4:30 AM (Australian Eastern Standard Time) before our early arrival. Still, at least I managed to enjoy a Spanish omelette, as well as have a decent lunch on the second flight.

During my flight over to Xinjiang, I was seated next to a fellow Australian. Unlike myself, though, she was visiting the autonomous region purely as a tourist as she had retired and wanted to see the sights around China. Originally from the Guangdong province, she had settled in Melbourne. She had two sons. One, a dentist.

While most of it was just simple small talk, it was nice to have a conversation during the long flight over.

Once we finally landed, I finally reunited with my mother (after nearly 11 months apart). She, along with my uncle (her brother), were there to pick us up and take my grandma (to be referred to as Popo) back to my uncle’s house where she would stay for a vast majority of the trip. My uncle, being quite magnanimous had prepared for us a late lunch. After we’d been fed, and I had toured the house, he drove me and my mother to the hotel we would be staying for a couple of nights.

After all, the main event was still to come on the next day with my grandfather’s 99th (or, in his eyes, his 100th) and my grandmother’s 95th birthday.

Fun fact, the two of them share the same date (at least according to the Lunar calendar)!

Given the momentous occasion, there were quite a number of guests in attendance. Including a once estranged aunt (divorced from my uncle) who looked like she had not changed one iota from the last thirty years. There were also a few other distant family members as my grandfather had previously been married and had a child prior to his marriage to my grandmother.

Then, of course, there were my immediate cousins. Of these, the oldest had brought along his four-month old daughter. The other cousin, though married, was still childless. And then there was me. Single, not sure if she wanted to mingle, and possibly not even straight.

As I was the youngest of the cousins, I was gifted a few presents of my own. Including, of course, a few Pop Mart items. These included a Monsters pendant, a Monsters scented candle, and a Monsters snowglobe. Unfortunately, the one I received had to be confiscated when I flew to Shanghai but I was able to find and purchase a replacement. And so, it is with a heavy heart, dear readers, that I report the loss of my happiness for the greatest evil of all: hope (at least according to Nietzche).

Now, I’ll admit, these family affairs always feel a little extravagant and daunting. I’ll be the first to confess I don’t like them much at all. Especially because I don’t know many of the others in attendance (living in Australia and about a 14 hour flight away does that to you). In fact, I’m probably the least close to my grandparents. So, it feels terrible to show up and claim the money they so freely shower (mostly because I don’t feel like I deserve it).

That said, I suppose to my grandparents, showing up is the greatest gift to them. It’s not so easy to travel all that distance, after all.

And while I may not have grown up under their watchful eye, there’s still a sense that they want to know who I am. Curiosity mixed in, of course, with a dose of familial love. It’s just that there’s such a huge yawning gulf between us in terms of culture and the things I or they might be interested in.

Still, I suppose, too, it’s also good to see how they’re doing too. Even though it’s only snapshot moments with many years between them. Though, that said, they haven’t much changed since the last time I visited. Except maybe they’ve grown a little older and more frazzled with the passage of time.

My fault, most of the time, of course but since the pandemic, I do feel like time has a way of getting away when you want it the most.

In any case, the banquet was a huge success. Though, I have to admit, being put on the spot to give a speech about my grandparents was not on my bucket list. If I’d been given some forewarning, and time to prepare, I like to think I would have given something quite a bit more eloquent. Alas, nerves got the better of me and I only thought to keep it simple (of course, if I’d gone for something a little more complex, my mother would not have been able to interpret for me).

So, though I know my grandparents will never read this (nor will my mother), I believe I ought to leave some parting words:

To my grandfather,

A hundred years is no small feat. Though you’ve known me before I was even born, I have been lucky to have you for as long as I have. Despite the years and distance separating us, knowing that you, and grandmother, are continuing strong even at this late age fills me with hope for the future.

The sign of a life well lived is the indelible legacy one leaves behind. Be they family or the memories friends remember. To have a hundred years of stories, then, is truly remarkable. And what a life you have lived. From the start of the Second World War til our current age of smartphones and AI.

May you remain hale, hearty and keep your mind forever sharp even in your golden years. And, who knows, maybe you’ll have a hundred more to go.

Happy birthday!

On a completely unrelated note, I do hope the billionaires pouring millions of dollars into the longevity business never do find the secret of living forever. It’s certainly not a power I’d want to see in their hands.

Though I like to think it comes from having a daily routine, eating well and their uncanny ability to siphon the lifeforce of two of their three children.

The Whispering Stars (Part 4)

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I have returned (not that many of you who may read this blog would know since I schedule my posts in advance)! So, dear reader, it won’t be long until you will be bombarded with semi-daily blog posts with my adventure overseas. Or maybe I’ll just spread it out per my usual weekly schedule. Who knows.

It’s not as if I had anything interesting to write about each day. Why, you may ask? Well, because it was primarily a visit to see distant relatives in China.

That said, I did get to enjoy quite a few sights and sounds while overseas. So, be prepared for some insights of what it’s like to travel abroad.

Anyways, hope you’ve been enjoying my short story. Here is Part 4!

It started quiet.

Like the gurgling of a babbling brook or the susurrations of the wind. At first, I ignored it. There were other things on my mind, after all.

But it grew louder and louder with each passing day.

At first, I thought it might have been Hindu. Or Indian. Or whatever it was Mrs Singh spoke. There was something guttural and throat-heavy in the intonations. Then I thought it was a bastardised version of German based on the sounds of consonants I was able to make out.

Yet even that did not seem right. Even as the voices began to become all-consuming, taking hold of my every thought.

They were like a Gregorian choir, chanting away in the background. One I could not shake though I’d turned BBC Four to its maximum volume without it bursting my eardrums.

I would even catch myself muttering the words under my breath on the odd occasion though I did not know their meaning.

It was everywhere.

Echoing in the beat of my heart. Seeping into my very soul.

Until I was naught but the words.

And the words were me…

One night, I remembered slipping into bed. Exhausted and weary. Wandering if a fresh new disaster would befall those that still remained in Strommouth.

I closed my eyes for but a second. The next moment, I was standing in a dark dank cavern in my pink night gown, feet bare. Water dripped from above, splashing down into a puddle not far from me though I could see little in the gloom. As the thought crossed my mind, an old-fashioned hooded lantern appeared in my hand.

Somewhere up ahead, I could see a flicker of something and the low murmur of voices.

Curiosity won over common sense and I hobbled towards the source of whatever light I could see in the distance. Drawn, if you will, like a moth to a flame.

The stone was damp and slimy underfoot. Perhaps if I envisaged myself in some proper shoes, they would appear?

But the dream refused to comply.

With a grimace, I continued on, keeping one hand against the walls of the cavern. Both as a support and as a guide.

As with most things in dreams, the tunnel ahead seemed to go on forever. No matter how quickly I moved, I could not seem to find the source.

On and on and on and on it went. With no end in sight.

When next I blinked, I was staring up at the ceiling of my room. My body, exhausted despite a night of what should have been restful sleep. When I finally managed to roll out of bed, there was a puddle of salt water where my slippers should have been.

It should have disturbed me.

Dreams bleeding into reality.

Yet I was not afraid. The whispering voices pounding in my ears took on a consolatory tone. As if to say there was nothing to fear. That this, too, would pass. They placated me. And I took comfort in their calm guidance, instinctively trusting their infinite wisdom.

What did it matter, after all? Strommouth was falling into ruin around me.

With each passing day, townsfolk were disappearing. Shops were shuttering. And vandals were graffitiing what was left. Or breaking in and looting what little we had.

It was easier – so much easier – to live within the dreams than it was to face the madness of the world around me.

All that I knew narrowed down into the home Greg and I had built over the long decades. For, I knew, if I were to venture beyond my door, certain death would follow.

The dreams continued.

For however long, I could not say. They were always the same. I would walk the same dank cavern, looking for the source of the light I could see and the voices I could hear.

But no matter how hard I tried, it felt like I was walking in circles. Trapped in a tortuous maze with no exit in sight and almost slipping on whatever was underfoot without my cane for support.

There were a number of times I wondered what the point of it was. Or what might happen if I should fall.

Would the voices take pity on me? Or would I disrupt whatever it was the dreams were telling me?

It should have been demoralising. Yet, each night, I pressed on.

Something was calling me to continue.

The Whispering Stars (Part 3)

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Rejoice, friends! For I have finished my short story (at time of writing up this post. By the time this is scheduled, it’ll have been a month and a bit). I may have sat my butt down during a day I had off, but it is finished! And I can enjoy my overseas trip without worry (or, at least, narrative worry. There is still my novel length fantasy story I want to finish but I know that would be impossible to wrap up in one and a half days).

Meanwhile, I’ve also finished reading Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus. A choice made by the book club I was unceremoniously recruited into and then was simply informed it would be the book we would be reading without given much choice (or the option to vote).

But I do feel compelled to say, growing up, I’ve always felt strongly about being able to do whatever the heck I wanted without social and cultural norms of what is typically ‘feminine’ and ‘masculine’ getting in the way. In that sense, I do feel a strong attachment to Elizabeth Zott and how she goes about proving to the rest of the world she isn’t a ‘woman chemist’ but just ‘chemist.’

Even the current discourse within more open-minded circles seem to rigidly enforce a binary nature to activities or dress or jobs. And I, for one, am sick of it.

Just because I like to wear collared plaid shirts and jeans doesn’t make me ‘masc’ presenting. Nor the fact my hobbies include story-driven narrative video games and collecting a shit ton of Disney Lorcana cards. But I also like horses and musicals.

Am I femme then?

Also, no.

So, does this make me non-binary? Well, if it’s a label you want to place on me then go ahead. But for years, I’ve had to battle the prejudice of having a ‘boy’s name’ growing up. Or for simply liking real-time strategy games like Starcraft.

I am simply a human, born into a woman’s body (which I’ve come to terms with), and I contain multitudes. I can cook, clean, smash shuttlecocks on the badminton court, and write fantastical stories. Isn’t that enough?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have important hospital administration tasks to busy myself with. Two Point Hospital has truly become all-encompassing, scratching a part of my brain that I didn’t know existed.

Children, set the table. Your mother needs a moment to herself.

Months passed.

Though time continued its inexorable march, Strommouth seemed forever trapped in a bubble of drizzling gloom.

Autumn gave way to winter and then to spring. Nothing changed.

What used to be a festive time saw most people slinking back into their homes before the sun had even set. There were no colourful lights. No countdowns to a new year.

Instead, bonfires burned through the night. Effigies, too, were sacrificed to the nameless gods. All in a desperate bid for them to be saved.

It was the start of spring. I’d heard a knock at my front door. Initially, I thought it was Stevenson. He had only just left. And, as always, he had left behind both his bottle of gin, of which he’d poured a generous amount into the tea I’d offered, and his lucky hat.

Apparently, it had been a gift from his father and had been with him through thick and thin. It had, supposedly, survived many a storm. Or so Stevenson claimed. And he’d been wearing it when he landed a monster of a pike during his younger years. There had been a photo, or so Greg and I were led to believe. But while I was doubtful of his boasts, Greg had never thought to question his friend. Rather, he had shared his own wild tale of wrestling a creature from the depths in the open seas.

Men.

What can I say?

The person at my door was not Stevenson.

Kieran, looking as officious as ever, made an attempt at smiling as he lowered his fist. No doubt he was trying to ease any concerns I may have had at his presence. Instead, he looked somewhat strained and perhaps a little constipated.

I told him that he needed to relax his face or else he’d never find anyone who wanted a stick in the mud like him. Man or woman.

His smile dropped. ‘Patrice,’ he said, tone serious. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, I have a few questions to ask you.’

‘If this is about the altercation with Mrs Singh over the weekend, I still profess my innocence. How was I supposed to know chai and tea were the same thing?’ I said. ‘This was just a silly miscommunication. I’m not racist, I assure you.’

‘Patrice, you also called her a curry breath scam artist,’ said Kieran with a suffering sigh.

‘It’s not slander if it’s true.’

Kieran gently massaged the bridge of his nose. ‘While I’m sure Mrs Singh would certainly love for me to throw the book at you in terms of a hate crime Patrice, I’m not here to clap you in irons. At least, not yet.’

‘You aren’t?’

‘No. I just have some questions. If you don’t mind.’

‘Fine,’ I said, leaving the door open and hobbled to the living room where I entertained all my guests.

There was nothing special about it. The wallpaper was a tasteful rose colour with a floral pattern that ran through the centre. A battered upholstered couch sat against the far wall with an armchair seated opposite. In between was a low table. On it sat my favourite silver tray along with a teapot and two of my finest Royal Albert cups that I had yet to tidy away. Stevenson’s bottle of gin was also out for display.

Along the walls were photos of me and Greg. Happy moments, captured frozen in time.

One was of our wedding. Another, a day out at a proper beach when we visited Australia sometime in the late 90s. Bronte, I think it was called. It was a short jaunt from the famous Bondi. Although why it was named after the Bronte sisters remained a mystery.

Kieran took it all in before he sat down in the armchair and pulled out a notepad. He flipped to a page midway through and then turned to look at me expectantly.

With an irritated huff, I hobbled over to the couch and sank down into it and tried to make myself comfortable. I’d never much liked the couch. Greg and I had purchased it during a garage sale decades ago. And though I’d wanted to throw it out at the turn of the millennium, he had been very ardent about keeping it.

The things I did for my Greg…

I was pulled from my reminiscence as Kieran cleared his throat in what I could only describe as an aggressively rude manner. As if he had asked me a question multiple times and I had not answered.

Plastering a sickly-sweet smile to my lips, I cocked my heads towards him. ‘Sorry, what was that again?’

‘Bjorn,’ he said curtly. ‘When was the last time you saw him?’

‘Sunday last,’ I replied. ‘At the markets. Though I didn’t much want to linger.’

‘Did you speak to him?’

‘Not really.’

Kieran arched an eyebrow, waiting for me to elaborate. I hated how well he used silence against me.

 ‘He was recruiting for the Sons of Deimos,’ I said finally. ‘Even after everything they’d done to me and mine, he joined up with the enemy. I understand times are hard in Strommouth but this was like a slap to my face. So, no. We aren’t exactly on speaking terms.’

‘When you said “After everything they’d done to me and mine,” did you mean what happened to Greg?’ asked Kieran.

I stared Kieran in the eye without replying. Two could play this game, I thought viciously. Besides, it had been his colleague who had held me as I broke down with the picture of my dead husband clutched in my hands.

Kieran was the first to break. He fidgeted uncomfortably, glancing back down at his notebook and flipped to the next page. ‘Was there anything else that passed between the two of you?’

‘No,’ I said.

‘Are you certain, Patrice? We have testimony—’

‘Do I need to call my lawyer?’ I said, interrupting Kieran. ‘What’s going on? Why am I being interrogated as if I’ve done something terrible?’

‘I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say,’ answered Kieran. He closed his notepad and rose to his feet. ‘Thank you for being so accommodating, Patrice. I apologise for coming at such a late hour. Another officer of the precinct may visit you in the coming days for a few follow-up questions.’

He headed towards the door.

‘Hang on a second,’ I said as I also tried to jump to my feet. I failed. The couch was like a vacuum, desperate to keep me seated, but I was undaunted. Fury lent me strength. I succeeded on my third try and grabbed my walking stick that was resting nearby, bringing it swinging down to prevent Kieran from escaping. ‘You don’t get to come barging into my home and start making aspersions against my good name, Kieran. Don’t forget, I remember when you were still a little shit running around town and causing havoc. I still have the receipts, young man. So, out with it. What’s going on?’

Kieran looked askance. He scratched at the peach fuzz on his chin. It seemed like he was trying to grow a proper beard though he hadn’t had much luck.

After a beat, he finally said, ‘We’re looking to establish a timeline. Bjorn’s gone missing, Patrice. Since the day before yesterday.’

‘And you think—’ I left the rest unsaid, one hand coming up to rest against my throat.

Bjorn was not the first to disappear. Nor would he be the last.

But unlike the others – a few tourists and those who lived on the fringes of society – his was noticeable. The two of us may not have gotten along once he joined up with the Sons of Deimos, yet even I could not deny what he had done for Strommouth.

For the community.

Days passed. Weeks. Still there was no word.

And then someone else went missing. Constance.

Daughter of the pastor, she was a local schoolteacher. A woman of few words, she kept mostly to herself. Only venturing as far as Main Street to do her shopping. Especially after the scandal several years back when she had been fraternising with another woman. Her father almost had an aneurysm when he found out.

Months later, Constance settled down with the woman. A pastry chef by the name of Lenore. They lived in a little cottage on the edge of town. Caring not for the opinions of the closeminded.

Then it was Abernathy.

Gail.

Eunice.

Sean.

By then, proper panic had seized those in Strommouth. Many debated on whether they ought to leave and start anew in some other part of the country even though they could ill afford it. I, too, flirted with the idea. Despite what I had told Nicholas all those months ago.

But I also knew I had nowhere to go. Who, in their right mind, would take in an elderly crippled woman of my tender years?

I had no other family besides those who had come before.

The life I lived; everything I’d ever known – all of it had been in Strommouth.

In the end, after much debate and weighing up what money I had, I chose to remain and face the possibility of the end with my head held high.

That was, until, Bjorn’s bodiless head washed up on the shore of a nearby pebble beach.

Stevenson stumbled upon it in the early hours of the morning. After one too many bottles of hard liquor. He described it as looking like a deflated football, once I’d managed to parse through his drunken ramblings. The skin, he said, was wan and pale. Bjorn’s eyes wide and glassy.

Besides these observations, there had also been chunks of flesh still dangling on the neck though some had been nibbled up by fish or crustaceans.

According to him, it looked like Bjorn’s head had been roughly ripped off. By what, he could not say. He had been too busy retching. Something I wholeheartedly believed from the dry stain adorning his ratty shirt.

‘We need to leave, Patrice,’ Stevenson had said. ‘Strommouth? It’s finished. There’s nothing for us here.’

‘And go where? With what money? I can’t sell the house. No one in their right mind would buy it.’

‘Listen. I have a sister in Perth. She could take us in for a couple of weeks. Until we find our feet.’

I mulled over his words, letting my imagination run wild for a few precious moments. Then, I let out a heavy sigh. ‘You say it like it’s easy. Didn’t you hear about what happened to the Blairs?’

Stevenson began to shake his head before he stopped. His eyes were wide, the whites visible. ‘It won’t be like that,’ he promised.

‘How do you know?’

He was silent for a moment, teeth worrying his bottom lip. ‘I’ll think of something.’

The next day, Stevenson was found dead. Hanged from the old oak tree overlooking the town. Officer Kieran ruled it a suicide when he came to visit me. I tried to contest it.

After all, why would a man intent on escaping Strommouth kill himself the day after making plans? I said as much to Kieran. But the constable merely shrugged his shoulders.

‘I don’t know what goes on in people’s heads, Patrice. Maybe finding Bjorn’s head spooked him. God knows Strommouth isn’t what it used to be. But we’re trying.’

He bid me goodbye and I bid him good luck.

We both knew nothing could save our town.

The attacks were random. Unpredictable. No one knew who was going to be next.

And then it all came to a head when Nicholas disappeared.