Sun Island

This week China celebrates a 'Golden Week' (黄金周) Holiday, as the three nationally mandated weeks beginning May 1st (Labour Day), October 1st (National Day) and Lunar New Year (Chinese New Year) are somewhat euphemistically described.

The idea is that Chinese workers are rewarded for their efforts by getting seven continuous days off, beginning, e.g. May 1st and ending May 7th. However, in an ingenious effort to keep the economy moving, weekends either side of the divide become workdays, thus resulting in a net holiday gain of just three days.

The result is that three times a year, innumerable hordes of holiday-makers descend on train stations, motorways, and airports, and go on a trip.

There's a Chinese expression, 人山人海, describing mountains and seas of people, which takes on a literal significance when one finds oneself amidst a heaving mass of sweaty tourist flesh pushing through the streets of a watertown, or queuing to climb a mountain.

As a result, I opted not to travel during the Labour Day break, but in a concession to having holiday fun, took a boat on a daytrip to Sun Island (太阳岛).

Sun Island barely qualifies as such - it's a piece of land on the northern bank of Harbin's Song Hua River, separated from the remainder of the northern part of the city by a thin tributary of the River itself. As for the 'Sun' part, it's a scant ten minutes from the southern bank by slow boat, and as far as I'm aware does not enjoy particularly favourable weather conditions.

Saying that, the sun did indeed shine for us that day, although the weather would sour later on. The wind whipped up sand and dust from the west, which mingled with the rain and spattered our umbrellas and shoulders with a powdery brown sludge.

Sun Island seemed to be a hyperactive designer's idea of what a park should be, a sprawling amalgam of styles and features - patches of green; lakes, rivers and bridges; and a hodgepodge of buildings, from pagodas to western-influenced mansions. One of the first sights we came across was a series of horse statues in heroic poses, and we chose this spot for a picnic lunch.

In a fit of excitement, I tried to climb a statue. Suddenly, I heard an alarming ripping noise. Red-faced I climbed down again and checked the damage. A six-inch scar had appeared in my jeans, just below my right butt-cheek. Guanchen laughed that if among his friends, if someone pointed out "Your flies are undone", the standard response was "I know. It's cool and refreshing" before reassuring me that the tear was barely visible. I spent the rest of the day with a refreshing breeze cooling my bum.

The rest of the day was thankfully less eventful. We climbed tiny mountains and raced three-man bikes...
... explored a lake, and threw coins at a lucky frog...
... watched an entertainer rap to Jay Chou, and checked out Squirrel Island, a squirrel reserve within the Sun Island complex.

A final word - and yet another on the beauty of the Chinese language. I asked Yanxin why everyone was steering so clear of the grass.

"People love walking on the grass, but it's not allowed", she replied, pointing out a sign. Sure enough, two rhyming couplets reminded tourists to respect greenery and grass respectively, in classical 5- ...
... and 7-word metre!