St Petersburg-Moscow

Waking up in Chengdu

Below is a typical five to six storey apartment-block estate from the times before controlled capitalism was allowed. I am on the 22nd floor in a fairly modern and well-kept hotel. The sky has a yellowish colour, a sickly sun casts its beam through the particle polluted air. Unless you wake up to the second language of Chengdu, the honking and screaming of cars and taxis, the crowing of a rooster reaches you like the voice of a lost memory, a bygone era when a rooster was worth more than a Rolex or a Louis Vuitton bag.
But there is still the famous Chinese hospitality. These low-rise settlements are still human. I thought I upset some people while walking through their estate with my camera dangling around my neck. The screaming was not in anger I found out, it was an invitation to a Chinese barbecue, spiced pork belly and bamboo shoots - possibly the best pork belly I have ever eaten! That was my first encounter in China with genuine locals.