Walking Miles and Talking with Will in Qingdao, China and London, England
With a touch of mud larking down by the Thames
HAPPY MAY 1ST
Il est revenu Le Temps Du Muguet
Comme un vieil ami retrouvé
Il est revenu flâner le long des quais
Jusqu'au banc où je t'attendais
Et j'ai vu refleurir
L'éclat de ton sourire
Aujourd'hui plus beau que jamais
Walking with Jeannette
By William Kemp-Gee
2024/4/28
When I think about it, it’s a little odd that I’ve come to enjoy walking as much as I do. After all, my earliest memory of going on a long walk ended with a bizarrely gruesome complaint on my part. My parents had taken me on a stroll around Greenwich Park, and towards the end, when they announced how much further it was to the car park, I loudly cried “But I can’t walk any further! My legs are already like bloodied stumps!”
(If you’re wondering how I even knew such an expression when I wasn’t even ten, the culprit was this surprisingly graphic and descriptive interactive cross section program we had on PC back in those days. It was about life on a British sailing ship in the 17th or 18th century, and the animation of a guy getting his leg hacked off by a surgeon must have scarred me for life! …Though I still watched it about a dozen times for some reason!)
Back in those days, I only really agreed to go out because I knew I’d get to enjoy a nice cup of tea and a cake in a warm kitchen after the fact, but my attitude changed quite drastically in my teenage years. I think at first, I just used it as a way to get some time to myself, but then I kept coming back when I discovered how magical walking really is. In our materialistic, goal-driven world, people love to bang on about all the health benefits of walking, but to me, that’s a distant second to all the fascinating things that happen in your head while you’re doing it.
I’m sure a lot of people reading can relate to that phenomenon where you’re walking along somewhere quiet, not thinking about anything in particular, and suddenly some memory from decades back jumps out of the depths of your mind like it was lying in wait behind the nearest bush. You’ll remember some weird TV show from your childhood no one talks about anymore, or something a family member did that was a little strange, or in especially baffling cases, you recall a random thought from a time you had taken a walk ten years prior, that you could have sworn you had completely forgotten about, and yet, there it is.
I love moments like that. There’s something about walking that gets you in touch with your inner self or Muse or whatever you want to call it, and you can never predict when it will speak up and what it’s going to say. And yet, it never fails to be interesting, often triggering brief flashes of inspiration that lead to fascinating ideas or conversations. For me, the effect becomes especially intense with music – in one memorable instance, listening to a certain black metal album at the right time triggered wild images of an entire fantasy saga, where a rebellious archaeologist/princess uncovers ancient machines of war powered by steam and clockwork, inspiring her to lead an insurrection against a corrupt empire of magicians. Not a bad haul for twenty minutes of music, right?
Taking walks along is one thing,
but as I was later to discover, bringing someone else along for the journey is a transformative experience. Suddenly you have two people who might have an interesting thought at any moment, and better still, you can bounce these thoughts off each other and take things even deeper. In one of my fondest walking memories, a friend and I spent the best part of seven hours walking in circles around a residential district in Shanghai, enjoying a riveting conversation that started on the topic of a certain video game and ended up imagining how a sprawling set of empires full of technology, natural wonders and their own distinct cultures could exist within said video game. (And yes, if it wasn’t already obvious, I have read A LOT of fantasy and science fiction!)
Speaking of fond memories, it’s about time I bring my dear friend Jeannette into this conversation. She and I have undertaken what is easily one of the longest routes I’ve ever walked on multiple occasions, and how we started doing this is quite a fun story in and of itself. We happened to be working in the same school at the time, but we had only spoken on a couple of occasions up to that point. I had heard it was possible to talk along a significant length of the coast near where our school was, and I was discussing with someone else in the office how I might try it myself sometime.
I must confess, given the total distance was over 30 kilometres, I considered making the whole journey in one go rather wishful thinking, and so Jeannette unintentionally called my bluff. She asked if she could join me the next time she was free, and given she was clearly friendly, enthusiastic and it would be a very dry day of walking otherwise, I agreed…even if a part of me was probably thinking, “Ah, rats, now I actually have to show up, and I can no longer just chicken out halfway through then just claim I did it anyway!”
Jokes aside,
I’m not the most sociable type even at the best of times, and so I was hesitant to spend so much time with someone who was only really an acquaintance at that point. There was even a false start where I made some excuse not to show up on account of the weather and/or laziness, so I’m grateful Jeannette was so patient with me! [And yet when we did meet up that first time, I quickly realized that I had nothing to worry about. Jeannette was a fascinating and welcoming companion for the journey, and besides, I was reminded once again how all my closest friendships are forged over the course of long, introspective walks.
Though even amongst plenty of other great memories of walks in England, America, France and China, those seafront strolls nearly stand unrivalled. For context, we were living in Qingdao at the time, a real gem of a city on China’s eastern coast. Ultra-modern skyscrapers and shopping malls are everywhere, dwarfed by impressive and extremely picturesque mountains further inland, and the city is full of energy and fascinating people. Better still, contrary to the stereotype in the rest of the world that Chinese cities are all drab concrete hellholes utterly devoid of character, Qingdao’s city planners had clearly gone to great pains to preserve a lot of the natural beauty, and nowhere is this better exemplified than on the seafront. Carefully maintained paths and wooden walkways follow the curve of the coast, taking you past rocky outcrops, sandy beaches and a number of relaxing parks.
Perhaps that sounds a little unexceptional so far, but my words can scarcely do justice to how striking and magnificent that route is in practice. It truly feels like an epic journey, starting amid winding paths dotted with trees and traditionally-styled stone pavilions, and ending on a vast stretch of sandy beach, the outer districts of the city sprawling over mountains in the distance. There is one point in particular which never fails to blow me away, which is perhaps aptly located roughly at the midpoint of the walk. You follow a series of wooden walkways around a small part of the coast that juts out, the sea on your right and a small hill obscuring the view to your left as you travel up and down small flights of stairs and around a tight series of corners. For a little while you feel almost isolated from the rest of Qingdao, like you’re on a secret path precious few know about…only to turn a seemingly nondescript corner and come face to face with the full majesty of the city.
A vast bay, several kilometres wide, sits in front of you, the small cafes and pristine sand of the beachfront in stark contrast with the titanic buildings looming behind, a mere two or three hundred metres from the shoreline. This along would be the centrepiece of many other cities, yet that is but a fraction of what you can see. The coast just keeps going, and the fascinating contrast between old and new continues, best symbolized by the Winds of May, Qingdao’s iconic red sculpture, some five kilometres distant, and the giant Buddha statue just off the tiny island of Maidao, barely visible from where you currently stand. The scale of it all is absolutely staggering, and it has always stuck with me as a marvel of both the planet’s natural beauty and the human ingenuity needed to shape it to such ends.
And yet I might never have seen any of it were it not for Jeannette’s encouragement and presence, plus I certainly would not have appreciated it in the same way. As I said, it is endlessly fascinating what you can end up talking about on a long walk, especially in such wonderful surroundings. One moment we might be laughing about our overly serious and intense co-worker and her endlessly put-upon partner, before commenting on a little dock we just walked past and how the surrounding architecture is oddly European in design. This will in turn remind me of a school trip to a little seaside town in northern France I’ve forgotten the name of, that might have been the only time I actually spoke the language to a local (OK, OK, it was only to order food – “Moyenne frites, s’il vous plait!” was about the extent of my proficiency!) That in turn might trigger a conversation on memories of our school days and how they shaped us…or we might get distracted by the weirdly buff old guy in a polo shirt doing chin-ups at the next exercise park!
China especially is full of wacky characters like that, and the presence of such people off the beaten path represents another thing that’s great about walking. It slows you down enough that you get to notice all sorts of fun little details about the surrounding area you might otherwise have missed, and they make for a great source of commentary and discussion. Even in my comparatively quiet hometown back here in England, within the span of a few walks I found a sticker on a phone box asking me if I was a Communist (I wasn’t the last time I checked, for the record!), and a bench dedicated to a local Reverend and his wife who allegedly rescued 68 children from central Europe on the cusp of the Second World War. The latter hints at an entire novel’s worth of plot and drama, to the point I can practically hear the gravelly-voiced narration already (“As the war machine of the Third Reich tears Europe apart, one man will stand against tyranny to bring hope to the innocent!”), and yet it’s just a random bench on some street corner. Absolutely brilliant! And yet, had I just been driving everywhere like far too many people do, I never would have even known that it existed.
If I alone can get all that out of humble Sidcup, you can imagine the kind of discoveries to be made in a place as storied as China, particularly in the company of someone as curious and imaginative as Jeannette. In that regard, the story that always sticks in my mind is when we were walking past one beach, and she suddenly announced that there was something oddly familiar about it. After a little thought, she suddenly realized that it was almost certainly the same beach her mother had visited when she was a little girl, and she even had a photograph to prove it! There are so many fascinating layers to that story and the sheer unlikeliness of that coincidence that it frankly boggles my mind!
All told, there were many reasons why those walks are a particularly special memory, and therefore it was an enormous shame when the circumstances of COVID and other factors left Jeannette and I on other sides of the planet for some four years. I continued walking as often as I could, especially once I no longer had to wear a mask for what felt like every waking moment, but there was always something missing. Without Jeannette’s great sense of humour, boundless creativity and love of life to bounce my strange observations and non-sequiturs off of, I could never get as excited for the coastal strolls as I used to. While there were still fun walks to be had – taking on Yinchuan West Road with it’s absurd gradient, throwing snowballs around an empty park at 2am, and walking past a fireworks display so loud I’m surprised it didn’t shatter the nearby windows – I must admit I never did the full coastal route solo, not with such a vital part of the experience absent.
Fortunately,
this is one story that ends well. After saying for several years that I was going to move on from China yet always finding some excuse to stay on, the whims of fate finally got tired of my excuses and gave me a much-needed kick in the behind. I returned to England, Jeannette and I met up a week or two later in London, and while the location may have been wildly different, all the key pillars of the experience were exactly as they always have been. We got caught up on all kinds of incidents we each had witnessed, saw great views along the Thames as we mused on the history of the place, ran into a Greek tourist trying to find Fleet Street (so of course I advised her to stay well away from any barber shops!), and in general just had a great time, proving the old adage that meeting a close friend, even after so many years, tends to feel like you just saw them the other day!
Given how many opportunities we missed these past few years,
I imagine this is merely the prologue of many great journeys to come. I can’t wait, and I greatly anticipate all the fascinating places we’ll discover, and the memories and ideas we’ll share. As for those walks that have already passed, I offer my deepest gratitude to Jeannette and the other wanderers who have joined me on the wonderful journeys thus far in both body and spirit. I’m ready for the next one anytime, well, so long as I haven’t gone the way of that nameless midshipman!
Thank you Will - I can’t wait for our next Walkie-Talkie!
So, from me, to you,
Spring is really here - YUPEEE
Thank you, as always for supporting my writing.
Click here for my Podcast - SCATTER-STORIES an extension of my Substack
Here is my Website: SCATTERFLIX DOCUMENTARIES - for those who would like to learn some tips and techniques in film production. I also offer bespoke courses in Digital Storytelling, Scrapbooking and Documentary filmmaking …
Thanks a lot, enjoy this lovely day, and, see you next month when I will tell you the story of my two quirky Iran mother-in-laws.
JEANNE
XXXX