Counterfeit Forgeries I suppose there must had been a major syndicate in Britain dealing in forged currency in 1994. More often than not, when I made a purchase using any valuation above a ten-pound note, the cashier would unabashedly hold it up against the light to check its legitimacy. Right in front of me, the paying customer. Thought it mildly rude, but to be fair the cashiers were trained to look out for forgeries, so there. First time this happened was in a bookstore in Morecambe. The cashier took my twenty-pound note, flipped it over twice, and held it up against the fluorescent tube. Left the store frowning, thinking her a racist pig, for she seemed to be insinuating that my money wasn’t good enough for her.
By and by I grew accustomed to the practice, but things came to a head when one shop assistant in Chorley sports store examined my note, asked for more samples to confirm his suspicion, and proclaimed them to be counterfeit. Shop assistant triumphant in preserving sports store’s monetary integrity. I’d been buying football magazines from that Indian newsvendor in Holland Village for years. If he sold me a fast one I’d have burnt down his store in the wee hours. Anyway I could ill afford to dismiss a true-blooded Briton’s claims, so I got Mr Barker to check my notes at the bank. When he returned with good tidings, I barely managed a wane smile a muttered a thank-you. That prompted him to exclaim,"Nothing ever surprises this guy. First when he got stuck in transit in Amsterdam, and now this. Don’t you ever get excited over anything, Shane?” Well…just that thought I was in safe hands in Amsterdam…at most spend the night in the airport before flying out to join the rest of the party. As for the counterfeit notes…half expected the result, so there. Worked out from this episode that perception defines reality, and no truth is absolute. A Chinese Christmas Dinner On the 12th day, Mr Barker brought us down to the Honey Tree Chinese Restaurant in the town center for a Chinese dinner prepared by his old friend, Mrs Yip. ‘Twas a fairly decent place, and the food was fine, I suppose. Didn’t exactly miss Chinese cuisine in the past two weeks. We were sat on a long table. The usual gang huddled around together---Shen Lin, Xinwei, Weijie, Duan, the two sec 3 guys, Jiehao and I. Was alerted by the guys to an English couple sat facing us against the wall. We thought the lady a wee bit queer. That square chin, the broad shoulders, all that hair above the upper lips, thick waist, hairy legs, large breasts…YIKES! A transvetite! Shuddered as he walked behind me on his way out. Brr… Imagine the meal got too boring---we took to sipping wine after a while. Xinwei seemed to be in good form---his faced turned a crimson purple soon after. Sensing him to be on a roll, we tried a few tricks here and there, adding salt and pepper into his wineglass, and generally cajoling him to drink more and more till he was piss drunk. We just sat there stoking his ego while barely containing our mirth.
The next day poor Xinwei had to lie down in bed with a headache. Claire, one of the temporary hands employed by Mr Woods, was making light conversation and tidying up my room when her thoughts turned to her next designated point. So the three of us trooped over to Xinwei’s room. The lad lay lifelessly in bed, with a blanket draped up to his neck. Shen Lin was in the toilet, vaguely aware of our presence. So while Claire went about her work, Jiehao and I inspected our handiwork. Noticed some rashes…eww… Moral of the story: A drunken man maketh a dangerous man. thank you Before the trip I hardly knew any of the other 17 guys, but during the course of the tour we developed a special bond. Suppose the camaraderie made the whole trip the wonderful holiday that it was. Although I’d been classmates with Jiehao for two years, we didn’t really know each other very well, save for our common Track ‘n’ Field background and interest in football. ‘Twas reason enough for him to invite me along for the tour anyway. We were actually last minute replacements for two other guys who withdrew from the whole thing. Thank you, whoever you might be. Only got to know Jiehao better in England, since we roomed, ate, roamed around and played football together. Interestingly, we had rather different approaches to travelling. He was more laid-back and leisurely, taking time to stick his nose in whatever interested him; whereas I was more on my toes, planning schedules sub-consciously to ensure us enough time to take in everything on offer. And while he curiously poked interesting objects here and there, I was frantically snapping photographs away (especially in the countryside). Though that’s not to say that we didn’t get along. In accommodating each other we struck a fine balance I suppose, a bit of shopping and a whole lot more of sightseeing; sometimes strolling aimlessly around, at other times rushing off to make new discoveries. Found him quite a family man as well. While I was preoccupied with snapping up Manchester United goodies, he spent a substantial amount of time thinking of what to buy for his family. I just bought whatever came along fittingly, whereas his gifts were more deliberate. Remember a leisurely stroll through town, carefree window-shopping and lunch out in the cool outdoors; and navigating the bright lights of Manchester at night, a more sophisticated, vibrant and metropolitan hub. ‘Twas helpful to have Jiehao around to look out for me at times. One night I fell asleep in bed while watching Chelsea playing on television. Next morning my spectacles were on the bedside table and I was tucked up nicely in bed. Didn’t take much notice until Jiehao recounted to the other guys how I fell asleep and snored like a pig that night. Cheers mate. Then there was the time I was taking a shower when the shower ran dry. Horror of horrors! Still had soap foam all over my body! Jiehao had to fetch cold water from the basin outside for me to wash up. Repaid him instantaneously, entertainment wise, by jumping around in only a bath towel, trying to find some dry clothes in the freezing hotel room. It’s little gestures like that which make you appreciate people. So once again, thank you for making our trip so delightful, and thank you, dear reader, for sharing a part of a wandering heart. Hope to venture forth again sometime.
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