[ Yueqing ]
Spent the afternoon wandering along a seawall protecting Liushi from the tidal vagaries of the East China Sea. The day was filled with fishing boats and fishermen, intentionally stuck in the mud–an interesting manifestation of commercial life in this coastal region. Men inspecting ships and netting; men and women harvesting shellfish and salt snails and a hundred other sea-creatures from the endless mudflats; families out for a stroll or a drive; a thousand wind-whipped and battered Chinese flags; two drunk old men sleeping off a bender in the shade.
Near day’s end I followed a small intercoastal canal inland and found myself on the outskirts of a small village, greeted by the town’s dead. No. They weren’t stumbling around eating brains or anything, and no, there was no Chinese Rick Grimes running about cutting off their heads. Rather I had stumbled into a cemetery built in classic Wenzhou style—curving concrete tombs built, throne-like, into the small, steep coastal mountains.
I took some pictures, had dinner at a tiny local seafood (surprise!) restaurant, and called it a day.
Bis demnächst,
—jim
