Cover Me

This month I have to say goodbye to a lovely little girl in China, but soon she'll be seen all over the world.



I don't acutally know her name although we have met twice. I took her photo on my first visit to Ping'An, a small town in the Longji Rice Terraces about two hours north west of Guilin. She is the daughter of a Zhuong family, one of the ethnic groups that populate the cool climes of these hills and grow rice.

She's important to me because I picked her smiling face and happy wave to represent my photography tours. It has been her face that graced our website and helped show potential travellers what joys awaits them in China should they join us on a photo tour.

On my second visit to Ping'An we saw her again, and gave her a copy of this photo. It was a special moment and the shy little girl was very surprised. Her mother was delighted however and we took a few more photos of the family so we have something to give them on our next trip.

But this lovely little girl can no longer appear on my photography website, and cannot be used in my travel writing. I have sold her to Travel Indochina for their next China brochure. While I will miss seeing her face when I visit my website, it seems likely that a great deal more people will be blessed with her smile once the new brochure comes out.

It's a great policy to make return trips and share the photos from our previous students, but in this instance their is a little more joy to share. The plan is to visit the school and ask about what they might benefit from. The Zhuong people are different to the neighbouring Yao, for they freely offer themselves to photographers. The Yao harass tourists for photos in exchange for money and are frankly annoying to excess. I am keen to reward the people of Ping'An for their kindness and demonstrate a direct benefit.

The little girl on the Travel Indochina brcohure will live on my bookshelf alongside a Cheetah mother in the Masai Mara (Peregrine Africa brochure), a golden Buddhist statue from Hanoi (Peregrine Asia brochure), and the Samburu people of northern Kenya (Geckos worldwide brochure).



And in case you're wondering, my photography tour website will be enhanced by a photo of the Great Wall of China. It's a lovely photo, but second to our young friend in the rice terraces.

Equality Packed

Women and girls of the Zhuong ethnic group crowd around our bus to porter our bags and packs up to the rice terraces. One lady was smaller than the wheelie-bag strapped on her back.



A visit to such a remote village in China is a treasured memory for all our travellers during the photo tour. On this instance we have taken a morning flight out of Shanghai and the temptations four-star pampering in a truly unique city. We spent hours driving through increasingly picturesque countryside and find ourselves at the threshold to Long-Ji and the rice terraces of Ping'An.

Ahead of us lies half a kilometre of steps leading up through the valley and into the lower reaches of the terraced gardens. A good thing we don't have to carry our bags!

I feel a little guilty because I have a few extraneous items in my kit. A replica Ming Dynasty bronze urn from Beijing and a generous bottle of rice wine from the historical town of Wuzhen. Both are souvenirs of the highest calibre. I need not have worried too much of course, for my fellow passengers will cast the greater burden. At least the women will.

It seems a cruel irony that these miniature ladies of the Zhoung tribes will be burdened with the task of carrying excess baggage for the excessive ladies of our tour. The average check-in weight of our four men on tour is 16kg. The figure for our seven females is 23kg. Decades of fighting for women's rights in western countries has created the right for tourists to add another 7kilos onto the backs of diminutive porters.

I guess neither Germaine Greer nor Shire Hite wrote books about travelling light.



When we all reached the guest house, several minutes behind our luggage, the breath-taking views were suspended for a moment while we filled our lungs with air. A pile of backpacks, wheelies and tote bags covered the entrance while our liberated women headed for the viewing deck.

So the four of us men got to work on getting our bags upstairs to the rooms :)

Spring in China

After just a week in China I have discovered that there is more to this country that delicious food and an abundance of bicycles. I wonder how well the west really understands the ways of our Chinese brothers and the capacity of these people to take big strides forward.



I have been travelling with a group of photographers, starting in Beijing and heading south to Hong Kong, and have enjoyed the character and friendliness of people in China immensely. They are not always modern in their thinking, but neither is the west and our so called democracies.

My impressions of China are of a place where great personal freedom is enjoyed under a strict and powerful government, where natural beauty is respected and where cultural heritage is held dear. They have a natural flare for style that is struggling to cope with the flashy toys of modern lifestyles. These are people who ride a tinky beat-up bicycle to work, but carry a mobile phone worth many times more than the bike. This is a nation that doesnt always get things right, but when they do it's done on a grand scale that cannot be ignored.

And there's a lesson here for us all to observe. Do not be fooled by the loud-mouth rhetoric of western leaders. China is a threat to the economic power of the United States, and that's what all the fuss is really about. China is moving forward and will be one of the greatest and most relevant players on the international stage. These are a people who have travelled to every corner of the globe and proven successful in every venture they elect. They are not to be ignored, and they should never be type-cast by the roles of western politics and US foreign policy.

China is not just a nation, it is a collection of people and races. The time must come soon for the insular refractiveness of 'deomocratic' nations take note and demonstrate suitable respect.

The writing is on the Great Wall.

Oriental Penang

I picked my hotel in Penang through an online service, and booked the second cheapest option that offered air-conditioning. The location was the real attraction, right in the thick of good eating, cultural icons and an ample supply of trishaw riders. I couldn’t afford the luxury and indulgence of the Eastern & Oriental, but there’s not that much to differ between one hotel and another – is there?



On the corner of Penang Road and Chulia Street the worlds of India and China blend together with the unique flare and moderation of the Malay. This is why I chose the location. Food is being cooked along the sidewalks at all times of day and night. Indian roti, tandoori, curries and dhal. Chinese noodles, congee, koay teow and fluffy buns. Malay laksa, nasi lemak, loh bak and panggang chicken. For $3 you can get a meal and a drink and a second meal. With a full tummy I head for the hotel to try and finish some writing.

The best thing about the Oriental Hotel in Penang (not to be confused with the Eastern & Oriental Hotel) are the little signs on display to promote the first floor drinks lounge. They promote the salubrious atmosphere of friendship, chit-chat, togetherness and a happy hour that lasts ‘all nite long’. The buzzword however is “Cheefulness”. It’s possible that this is no misspelling, but rather a local phrase that translates into “abundant selection of prostitutes”.

On my way out of the hotel one afternoon I was propositioned by a Mali lady-boy who is convinced that all my fantasies can be made real for the small sum of $40. I didn’t have the heart to explain to him, or her, that my plane ticket from Kuala Lumpur only cost me $20; plus I can take that ride as often as I like without breaking any laws of a moral or legal nature.

Returning to my hotel at night the same bunch of trishaw riders are lying about the footpath sleeping or talking. A couple have broken out the checkers boards and use beer caps for pieces. One suspects that these lads could be busier if they didn’t charge three times the equivalent taxi fare. Most of them are skinnier than an Australian soldier in Changai Prison, so maybe its better they remain mostly idle in fear of shortening their life span.

Once inside my home away from home I am greeted with friendly smiles, my room key and the marvel of air-conditioning. I step inside the elevator and take note of where the emergency-stop is located, suspicious that seven floors may be too much for this old tin box. As the doors close I thought I could hear the faint echo of Air Supply singing "You’re every woman in the world". But maybe it was just the fumes from cheap cleaning solvent overwhelming my senses.