Formula 1: 2009 China Grand Prix

The Shanghai Formula 1 race is the main spectacle of speed on China's motorsport calendar. On race day it was raining heavily. The opening ceremonies included performances by the Shaolin Monks and a lap around the track with the drivers waving from atop a double decker bus. The crowd cheered as the first roar of the engines was heard. As the rain continued to pour down the cars zipped past, completing a a few warm up laps before the green lights indicated the Grand Prix of China had begun. It was a running start, with the pace car leading the way for the first few laps before moving aside. Sebestian Vettel and Jenson Button battled for the lead throughout the race, with Lewis Hamilton displaying some flair along the way but fading at the end.

On the wet track visibility was low and grip hard to come by. Aquaplaning was the primary activity of the day. we witnessed several spectacular crashes as driver errors unsurprisingly increased with the poor weather. Sebastien Vettel won the the race, but the day belonged to the drenched fans who had valiantly weathered the rainy day to witness the powerful combination of man and machine that is F1.

Race Notes:

My poncho was punctured early on in the race as the spectator seated in front of me could not maintain control of his umbrella. One of the spokes was violently driven through my protective raingear, tearing a swath through the plastic covering. The gash reduced my downforce and I began taking on water, never completely recovering for the remainder of the race. My pit crew could not patch it and no spare ponchos were available after the start of the race due to strict regulations prohibiting the sale of them within the circuit grounds.

*****

"If you spend all of your time racing ahead to the future, you're liable to discover you've left a great present behind." - Tom Wilson

Modes of Transport

The diversity of ways to get from one place to another is as astounding as the ARNABeard. On my way from Hong Kong to Beijing, I set a new personal record for most distinct modes of transport used on a contiguous journey from point A to point B.

- cable car from the top of a hill on Lantau Island to a MTR station
- subway to my destination MTR station
- ferry across the harbour from Hong Kong Island to Kowloon on the mainland
- taxi to the Elements bus station
- bus across the China-Hong Kong border to Shenzhen Airport
- airplane from Shenzhen to Beijing

For the pedestrian portions of the odyssey I walked on the road side footpaths, underground walkways, elevated platforms, escalators, travelators, boardwalks, gangplanks, and stairs.

*****

“I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read in the train.” - Oscar Wilde

The Rice Wall of China

Over 600 years have passed since the construction of Nanjing's city wall, but it still stands. It took 20 years and 200,000 men to build the oldest such surviving structure in China. The defense mechanism stretches for 25 kilometers around the erstwhile capital. I climbed up a set of steep stairs to get on top of the wall near the southern banks of the Yangtse River.

When the Ming Dynasty was established, Nanjing was chosen to be its capital. Construction soon began on a wall to protect it from invaders who would seek to usurp the throne. Legend has it that the wall was partially made out of rice, as an inscription plastered on the side of the fortification reads:

The history books did not record anything about what kind of ingredients used in the cement. It was told that the emperor Zhu Yuanzhang used the polished glutinous rice to build up the City Wall. But the affair still a mysterious.

*****

“Obstacles don't have to stop you. If you run into a wall, don't turn around and give up. Figure out how to climb it, go through it, or work around it.”
- Michael Jordan -

ARNABeard: Pogonophobia

What is the scientific term for the fear of beards?

The quizmaster paused after asking the question, confident that no one in the room would know the answer. I was attending my first ever pub quiz. In a popular Beijing watering hole packed full of expats, participants had gelled into groups of 4-10 people. I had teamed with a Malaysian, a Mauritanian, and a couple of ABC's (American Born Chinese), but we were not faring particularly well. The quiz had had a strong European flavour, and our combined ineptitude had won us a pitcher of beer.

The tides were about to turn though, as the topic had changed to beards. In a land where facial hair is rarer than diamonds, the bearer of the ARNABeard is often the center of attention. I remembered that the art of cultivating it was known as pogonotrophy. Taking the root and combining it with the word for fear, I came up with pogonophobia. After the quizmaster disclosed the answer, it was revealed that we were the only ones to guess correctly out of the dozen or so groups participating.

A murmur of approval spread through the room like stubble across my face as I explained how I came to my conclusion. I quipped that I knew 600 million people afflicted with the condition, referring to the large female Chinese demographic that feared my manly growth. Symptoms of pogonophobia include breathlessness, excessive sweating, dread, heart palpitations, panic attacks, and the inability to speak or think clearly.

*****

Comments from assorted Chinese girls suffering from the disease:

"You so hairy."

"You looks like gorilla."

"You would look even more handsome without your beard."

"Why you not shave?"

For Your Eyes Only

I got up early Sunday morning for my second day of sightseeing in London. I met up with an ex-colleague from Vancouver who took me to the Imperial War Museum. Apart from various weapons, uniforms, vehicles, and medals belonging to the imperial warmongers, there was a special exhibit on James Bond. The focus was more on Ian Fleming, the man behind 007, than the agent himself. Historical artifacts that provided the foundation of the spy novels and movies were showcased to a steady stream of Bond aficionados.

Afterwards we boarded a double-decker bus that passed by the London Eye and dropped us off near Big Ben, the world's favourite clock tower. While on the bus a marching band passed by us for no apparent reason. We were meandering about the streets when my stomach began to rumble, so she took me to her favourite pub for a traditional Sunday roast. There is nothing like a good book following a heavy meal, and the British Library had 25 million in its collection. We browsed the Magna Carta, the Gutenberg Bible, and original manuscripts by famed authors such as Geoffrey Chaucer, William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Lewis Carroll, Rudyard Kipling, and Charles Dickens to name but a few. We vacated the premises when an announcement was made that the library was closing soon, and took a stroll across Abbey Road outside the Beatles' recording studio before calling it a day.

*****

"Bond... James Bond." - James Bond