Alley/Hogg Trip 22.7.17

An early bus trip (far too early for these old bones after a mere 6 hours sleep) from Baoji to Shandan to visit Shandan Bailie School, which I believe was the first but I may well be wrong. The Alley/Hogg story gets more complicated the deeper we delve and I find I am given different nuggets of information from different people almost on a drip feed.

After the school we were taken to a museum to which Alley donated almost 3,000 artifacts he had been given. It is patently obvious that Alley was not in the slightest materialistic – at least 90% of these exhibits were from the Ming and Ching dynasties. You can hazard your own guess at how many untold millions Rewi could have made by selling them and deciding to buy his own tropical island and live the high life. There can be no doubt if you cut him he bled China.

And then came the most moving experience for me of the tour to date. We visited Alley and Hogg's cemetary. Hogg died aged 30 on this day, something I only discovered this evening – hence the importance of the visit. The Chinese knew the song, the Kiwis hastily learnt it. I had no chance, it was in Chinese but was a favourite of Hogg's love (still alive aged 102 in Beijing and a Kiwi to boot!) and is sung every year at the anniversary of his death. Hence contingents from China, New Zealand and little old me from not far from Hogg's birthplace of Harpenden – 40 miles (64km) distant and a place I have been often.

A minute's silence was observed, the song was sung and flowers were presented to both graves by all three nations. I confess to becoming emotional at being the sole English representative and carrying flowers in homage to two people who assisted China so much that they are almost revered as deities in some parts of the country.

Leaving the sombre and respectful atmosphere of the shrine we had a short visit to a new college being built under the Bailie franchise, scheduled to open in 2020 and then time to check in and enjoy a sumptuous lunch at our hotel for the night – the Alley hotel! Yes, they even named a hotel! And very nice it is!

After lunch it was a trip to Yanzhi mountain. I had been promised no 10km walks and no climbing mountains and I was holding them to that when I learnt it involved a 9km walk up and down the mountain! Ten years ago the tale would be different, sadly now I have to recognise my limitations. I felt guilty for a while until we actually got near the summit and found some of the leaders and two of the young Kiwis were not going! I was not the only defaulter! I am glad I went even though I never went on the walk. One of our number at lunch, a young Maori lass had received devastating news of a bereavement and after a few tears she had apparently stoically stated that everything should continue normally. Brave stuff for a 16 year old indeed and since lunchtime I have seen her carrying on with fortitude.

However, near the summit there were little Buddhist temples so I enjoined her to light and present incense sticks for her ancestors. Ok so I paid for the sticks but it was as well nobody took close-up photos of my eyes as I observed her following the ritual. I hope in a small way to have eased her obvious grief and I salute her undoubted stoicism.

When the 9K Klan returned an hour earlier than anticipated the rest of us rejoiced! It meant gaining the hotel earlier! Except dinner was to be at an out of the way place nearby. Spit and sawdust it certainly was but the food was family fare. Sadly most of us were still full from our lunch but some gamely did their best to do us proud. We had sheep grazing nearby (indeed the Kiwis would have felt at home when we left and were held up on the road by a shepherd and his flock!), coy carp being bred on-site and a very persistent dog who kept coming in for scraps. Before we left the entire group danced (Dad dancing!) and despite my hiding behind foliage I was roped in.

Today is a day I shall always remember and treasure – emotion from remembrance to watching a young girl presenting incense and thoughts to her dearly departed relative to being embarrassed dancing.