We took a ritzy bus to the Weifang Kite festival, and then went by taxi to the park in Weifang where the kites would be flown. I got off the bus a few moments before Fresca and Jeff and was instantly surrounded by aggressive cab drivers. First they said “taxi” in Chinese (in case I thought they were in some kind of matching-car cult), then they tried the Chinese words for drive, car, transport, etc., interspersed with “taxi” in English. They were all making steering-wheel motions and saying vroom vroom by the time Fresca and Jeff pushed their way off the bus. I wish my friends had taken just a little bit longer to gather their things and get off – I really want to know if they would have done some automobile related performance art.
We were too early for the kite show so we went to the adjoining “relaxation park. The residents of Weifang relax by visiting pagodas, bamboo bridges, waterfalls, streams, gardens and by riding dodgy rollarcoasters. The first ride (of course we rode them) was like taking a go-cart though someone’s basement. Flourescent demons popped down from the concrete ceiling and Chinese tourists took our picture.
The second ride was a mini open-car monorail. It was also where I learned the Chinese word for “seatbelt.” The ride attendant was not actually saying “fasten your seatbelts” as I’d thought but “Don’t touch that seatbelt, it’s broken and covered in tar”. I don’t know the Mandarin words for “hang on for your life,” but I’m pretty sure she said those too.
After our near-death experience, we went to the zoo. They had all kind of exotic animals like peacocks and camels and, um, turkeys.
This is me at a zoo: That bird is pretty.
This is Jeff at a zoo: That’s a two-year-old New Zealand angora hen.
This is me at a zoo with Jeff: Do you actually know everything about everything!?!?!?
*Have you noticed that all my recent posts, like The Pride of Yantai, Shandong Province, are based on things Stick does that (used to) piss me off? I really miss that boy.