They say that going to Beijing is like going to hospital or, for that matter, visiting a marae _ as long as you do what you're told, everything will usually work out well.
I remember my first morning in Beijing. I woke up to the sounds and sights of footpaths full
of frocks and grand old gramophones belting out big-band music at full volume, as thousands ballroom-danced their day to a start.
Imagine that happening in downtown Tauranga when morning had broken over Mauao? The homeless street dwellers would be most upset being woken by crooners instead of cleaners on their pavement patch. Police-issue straight jackets would be the weapon of choice and an arrest warrant in the form of an excuse-me waltz would be issued to cart them back to whatever institution the dancers came from.
It was the last thing I expected when I took on the challenge of writing a children's book in China, but it was a surreal start to a city that runs like a well-oiled pushbike. Even the traffic intersections in a city of 17 million push-biking Beijingians are controlled by one policeman standing on a silly little soapbox, with nothing more than a whistle as a weapon.
But _ and it's a big but _ if you jump the red light, you lose your trusted treadley on the spot and you walk home, no exceptions. Imagine that happening here to boy racers?
Once the Beijing ballroom brigade head home and the city starts to kick into full throttle, the humidity grabs you around the throat like a stiff-armed tackle and, by lunchtime, you are inhaling half-a-packet of fags an hour without striking a single match. That's when I called it quits and called for a cab to get me back to the air-conditioned oasis where I was working.
I wouldn't rate China as a country of choice to visit so I guess they do have that in common with a hospital.
But if you are willing to do what you're told and you have the Great Wall on your bucket list, then I thoroughly recommend you hold true to your dreams and take a walk on the most amazing footpath ever built.
It was really the only memorable moment for me, besides the ballroom dancing and the push-bike policeman, but the underlying communistic control can never make me believe for a moment that everything is beautiful in Beijing.
The really sad thing is they are running away from the cornerstone of their culture toward the material greed of the Western world and that can only end in conflict.
But that does not stop me from grabbing the remote and going ``couch `n hold' as the 29th Olympic Games provide14 days of sporting heaven. How proud would Bob Owens have been to see his mokopuna, Mahe, carry the flag for New Zealand into the Beijing bird's nest.
It kind of makes the farmer flag even more special for my two bobs worth of podium patriotism, especially when we start bagging a few goldies.
Another gold-medal sporting performance is the Steamers rugby team.
I watched from the grandstand as one well-drilled team after another took the winning medals on Saturday's finals play-offs, but the best performance was watching Schuler's Steamers as they kicked Counties all the way back to the Bombays with gold-medal grass-roots rugby.
There is a lot to look forward to this NPC season for the Hori BOP boys, because its what's happening off the paddock that gives me back the hope I had for Bay of Plenty rugby.
Not only have the new management brought back Hori himself, who worked the Saturday night sideline like a K Rd pro, but they have also brought back the belief held by many long-time rugby loyalists that walking the talk from big chief to little Indian is how you get the best out of a team.
Couch and hold and let the good games bring the rewards they deserve.
broblack@xtra.co.nz
They say that going to Beijing is like going to hospital or, for that matter, visiting a marae _ as long as you do what you're told, everything will usually work out well.
I remember my first morning in Beijing. I woke up to the sounds and sights of footpaths full
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