And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...

Yes, it's Harbin's only claim to world fame - the incredible Ice and Snow Festival!

As an early Chinese New Year celebration, we were taken yesterday on an office jolly - a grand day out, marred only slightly by the intervening meal which was somewhat strange (sliced pig's intestines or duck's tongues, anyone?) and conducted in near silence except for endless boring toasts in which everyone thanked everyone else and looked forward to prosperous business relationships, before it descended into the kind of corporate bonding games which I rate somewhere below root canal treatment in my list of preferred activities.

But the ice and snow sculptures were just FABULOUS. And as it was 'only' minus 13°C, I didn't even feel that cold - but then again I was wearing three thermal vests, two scarves and an indeterminate number of dead sheep. Not to mention the WMEMs, of course.

Simply uploading a few pictures to this blog wouldn't do the thing justice, so if you click below you can see the whole album - just hit 'Slideshow' for the full effect once you're there. I say 'full effect' but you'll have to imagine the (loudly) piped classical music which accompanied it all. Peter and I got some funny looks when they got to 'Bolero' and we started Torvill & Deaning-it on the ice.

Anyway, it's the Snow Festival first (which had a Finnish theme, hence the strong Father Christmas and Moomin motifs), then the Ice Festival - they take place in adjoining parks next to the (frozen) Songhua River, some views of which you can also see. Hard to comprehend, I know, but all the structures which look like the Blackpool Illuminations on acid are made entirely from ice blocks, hewn from that river.

Why? Who knows. Apparently it grew out of a local tradition for making ice lanterns by hollowing out blocks of ice and putting a candle inside. I suppose someone thought, 'Ooh, it might be pretty if we joined a few of these together and put coloured lightbulbs in them', and from there - in just ten years - Harbin's Ice Festival became one of the 'big four' ice sculpture festivals worldwide (the other three being Montreal, Sapporo in northern Japan, and somewhere in Finland). Mainly due to the proximity of the Songhua and its endless supply of ice, Harbin now boasts the biggest annual ice festival in the world.

I am now more convinced than ever that it's the most bonkers place on Earth.

Enjoy our pictures.

Party planning, part 2

Oh God. It's out of control. Someone's actually coming specially from Beijing. Peter keeps hearing excited chat around the office - he can tell, because there doesn't appear to be a Chinese word for 'party'. This doesn't bode well. The problem seems to be that Chinese people never organise anything more than a day in advance - they were amazed by the concept of a diary in which you write down appointments - so obviously to them anything which requires several weeks of planning must be the social event of the decade, if not the century.

Tomorrow Kevin is emailing everyone to confirm the details. So I reckon I have about 12 hours in which to come up with an escape plan. Faking my own death sounds too complicated to engineer in such a short time, so the best course of action would seem to be to relocate to Thailand where, apparently (don't know if this is just under the current state of emergency or always), gatherings of more than five people are illegal.

Today's conversation on the matter went as follows.
Kevin: What time do western parties start?
Peter: It depends, but usually about 8 o'clock.
K (shocked): 8 o'clock??!! Is very late.
P: Well actually some don't start until 10 o'clock.
K (scandalised): 10 o'clock????!!!!!
P (thinking it best not to explain that this was so that some of the guests could go to the pub and get drunk first, then roll up when the pubs close at 11 - or, in Scotland, 12): Well they tend to start late because, like I told you, people have their tea before they come out. So 8 should be fine.
K: Ah yes. So, what food will there be? [Does this boy think of nothing but his stomach?]
P: Party nibbles.
K: And what are they?
P: Crisps, nuts, olives....
K (with obvious lack of enthusiasm): Cheese?
[Kevin tried cheese for the first time at Boss's party a couple of months ago, and found it revolting. It was Camembert, mind you, which tastes like old socks to me, and I like cheese.]
P: Well, yes, cheese.
K: I should have come with you to supermarket, buy things I like!
P: What do you like?
K: Only joking. So, what time will the party end?
Boss (who's been listening with increasing amusement the whole time and seems keen to stir): 5 am! [Boss and Peter laugh].
Kevin (horrified): Really??!
Peter: No. It will end when all the beer is drunk.
K: Ah. I see.

Or, I would add, when all the guests are incapable, whichever is the sooner.

So, as things currently stand, we have six bottles of wine for mulling, but no spices with which to mull them, as Peter was unable to identify cinnamon or cloves in the supermarket. Mince pies have been abandoned as simply a challenge too far, short of flying down to Shanghai to see if Marks & Spencer's have them in their food hall there. But then, even if they did, they would probably all have been snapped up by now by desperate expats, who had managed to virtually clear the shelves of food within four days of the place opening when we were last there, prompting the shop to display apologetic notices explaining how they'd had to send to the UK for more supplies. Seriously. Imagine the years of M&S withdrawal symptoms which must have led to this behaviour. It's like Ikea's Edinburgh launch all over again.

But to return to the matter in had. So, warm, fruity but possibly spiceless mulled wine, possibly with a dash of brandy then, to make it more interesting - check. 'Nibbles', for people who are used to having a full meal when they go out - check. Large quantities of beer - check. Gigantic bottle of whisky so that everyone can be offered a dram in true Scottish style - check. Twenty or more Chinese guests, unused to alcohol - check. Energetic Scottish dancing - possibly.

Result? Large-scale puking, us picking comatose Chinese bodies out of wardrobes and shower cubicles for the next two days, a riot, and a major pileup on the roads, leading to our almost inevitable arrest and deportation? Probably.

Fun, part 2

I haven’t said much so far about eating in restaurants in China, although it’s something we’ve done a fair bit of, so here goes. Prepare to forget everything you thought you knew from your nights down at the Sunrise Take-Away.

If you go to a restaurant in a large group, you’ll likely be shown into a private room. The tables are big and round, with a giant lazy susan in the middle so that dishes can be spun round and shared. The concept of ordering one meal per person is unknown here, and there’s no such thing as starters and main courses. You just order a number of dishes, each one of which will be either meat, or veg, or rice, etc, kind of like tapas, and then share them, with each person taking a small portion from the main plate and transferring it to their own plate, or even eating it direct from the main plate. If you’re worried about catching other people’s germs from them dipping their chopsticks into your food, tough. I gather that eating out CAN get raucous (especially if there’s a lot of ‘Ganbei!’ which the dictionary translates as ‘Cheers!’ but is really a challenge to down a drink in one) but this usually only happens in all-male company. Typical.

The whole business can be somewhat disconcerting if you’re not used to it. As is the fact that the waiters expect to discuss your food requirements with you at length, suggesting dishes which will complement those you’ve already ordered so as to achieve a ‘ying-yang’ type balance, and they therefore bring you the menu and continue to stand by you while you look at it, pen at the ready, and get very confused if you ask them to go away. The menu is usually all in Chinese but has photos – do not be fooled by these, however, as the food when it comes generally bears no resemblance to them, and anyway you could be eating duck’s head or bull’s penis for all you know, so it’s best to have an interpreter on standby! They just bring out the food in the order it’s ready, so the thing which takes longest to cook could well arrive after you’ve finished everything else. So quite how this achieves a balance is slightly beyond me.

Mostly the food is actually very tasty. Northern Chinese cuisine is quite different from the Cantonese food we’re used to in Britain – spicier, less sweet, more noodle and dumpling-based than rice, but beyond that I find it hard to summarise except to say that if you’re after Sweet & Sour Pork, Prawn Crackers or Chicken Chow Mein with Special Fried Rice you won’t find any such thing. My rule of thumb is I don’t eat it if it looks slimy. Peter is prepared to try anything except chicken’s feet. And beyond that, it’s all a voyage of discovery!

The strangest meal we’ve had was in a restaurant called ‘Triplepot’ which we went into because it had an English name. Sadly it turned out they spoke no English whatsoever and had to find a student who was eating upstairs to come and translate for us. He could not, however, prepare us for the eating experience. The table had a circular hole in it, in the base of which was a hotplate. They brought over a large pan divided into three sections, one containing water, one ordinary oil and one chilli oil, and lit the thing until all three boiled. They then brought out the food – raw – and we had to cook it ourselves by dipping it into the compartments, instructed by actions from the bemused staff.

Our favourite so far, though, is the highly entertaining ‘western style’ restaurant near our flat. They have a bizarre menu with dishes apparently plucked at random from the various cuisines of Europe, called things like ‘German-style fried potatoes’ and ‘French-style chicken with mushroom juice’. (‘This is chicken with a mushroom juice’, the menu explains in the small print, in case you weren’t clear). The food’s very nice, but everything is served in the Chinese way as described above, with the sharing and the random serving order. If you ask for water, they may bring you hot water – for what purpose I’m not sure. Oh, and you get free bread, butter and jam for pudding. The atmosphere is also curious; it’s never very busy but like everywhere in China they have hundreds of staff. The first time we went there we were the first customers of the night, and ate our dinner observed by twelve waiters and a girl pianist in thigh-high denim boots, who tinkles away at lift-music standards like ‘Love Story’ in a somewhat minimalist style while you eat and attempt to ignore the stares. It gives a whole new meaning to ‘going out for an English’!

But they try their best, bless them. They even have a feedback questionnaire which as an ex market researcher I think is so brilliant I shall quote it for you in full.

The Investigation Answer Sheet of Victoria Western Restaurant

Thank you for spending your time in filling in this answer sheet. We will according to it ameliorate our service and make you a much more happiness at Victoria.

1. Excuse me, do you usually come to a western restaurant?
· Occasionally
· Usually
· Once a month or above
2. Please tell us whether you are satisfied with the atmosphere of this western restaurant.
3. Excuse me, are you satisfied with the food of the restaurant?
4. Excuse me, are you satisfied with the price of the food?
5. Excuse me, are you satisfied with the service quality of the workers?
6. Excuse me, are you satisfied with the circumstances of the sanitation?
7. How do you know the Victoria Western Restaurant?
· The friend’s introduction
· Saw it by chance while driving
· Advertisement
· Others
8. The advice that you’d like to tell us is…..

Thank you again for the support to Victoria Western Restaurant. Wisher to have a meal pleased! Happy your life!

This feedback sheet was being done by YUMMY&LIFE magazine jointly.

I would love to fill it in, but words do occasionally fail me.