Of cabbages and things

Of all the sentences I ever thought I’d hear myself utter, ‘Oh God, I’m SOOO BORED of coming to Shanghai now!’ wasn’t one of them.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great place – or at least what we’ve seen of it is (if you don’t mind air and noise pollution, excessive humidity and being almost mown down by scooters whenever you try to walk anywhere). It’s just that we seem to have spent a disproportionate amount of our time on a plane between here and Harbin, en route to or from an airport, or walking through the vast echoing halls of Pudong Terminal 2, which could be a fitness plan in its own right if you didn’t fancy any other forms of exercise. We’re up and down here so often that I’m becoming convinced that a) there are in fact no other places in China besides Harbin and Shanghai, and b) they’re just next door to one another, whereas in fact a) China’s ginormous and b) er, China’s ginormous and the distance between Shanghai & Harbin is about 1000 miles – a 2 and a half hour flight, or the equivalent of flying from Edinburgh to Prague or London to Rome and back every couple of weeks. No wonder it’s a drag.

Every time we come here we’re either in transit to somewhere else, always either jet-lagged or about to be and never have a chance to look around, or alternatively – as this time - we’re here to complete some tiresome visa-related errand involving being relieved of our passports for several days and generally messed about. And, having left Harbin complaining of the cold, here it’s still slightly disagreeably muggy and Peter, predictably, has done nothing but moan about the heat, while the aircon in the hotel is of course off since it’s now ‘winter’ (I even saw a girl in a woolly hat this morning).

As you’ll have gathered, I’m in a bad mood. I won’t be happy until we get these damn visas sorted out once and for all. But, in order to maintain peace and harmony and keep you entertained, I’m going to ignore it and tell you an interesting aside instead.

Last time he was down here, Peter was told that up until about twenty years ago - presumably before many people had fridges or freezers and before the advent of long-distance distribution and supermarket chains in China - it was common practice in Shanghai for everyone to have a stock of cabbages for the winter, which they kept outside on the ground or on their balconies so that they would remain cold. The cabbages were delivered about now, October, and kept throughout the winter, slowly rotting, but come February people would still be eating them, peeling off the outer rotten leaves to find they were still edible inside.

In modern Shanghai today you don’t see much of this, apparently. But the outdoor fridge tradition would appear to be alive and well in Harbin. Yesterday as we were driven to the airport we noticed that on every available space – on pavements, roadsides, front steps of apartment blocks and shops, hanging from balconies, windowsills and doorknobs, and being transported around on stalls, carts and bikes – were hundreds and hundreds of ….

LEEKS !!!

(Plus a few cabbages for good measure.)

They hadn’t been there a couple of days before. Where did they come from? Was yesterday one of those dates which everyone just knows by osmosis is Leek Day? I bet in two weeks’ time if you try to get leeks in the supermarket there won’t be a single one to be had.

Anyway, on a loosely related topic, for the Have I Got News for You fans among you, here’s the missing words round.

Frustrated Welsh farmers face prison over [....... ?]

Woman catches [......?] from garden badgers, report claims

Headlines from Farmers’ Weekly; don’t you just love trade journals?

Maybe we should tell the Welsh farmers about the Harbin leek glut? You never know; it might help.