STONE DRUM RESTAURANT

We leave Jiliang on the bus. Scenic villages, cows, horses, yaks and donkeys over-laden, hauling goods on the road.  Many children hanging drying baskets of  corn or grain outside. Terraced gardens and fields follow the river. We look back at the snow capped Himalayan peak marveling at its beauty and that we were there.

We stop at Stone Drum Town, a Naxi village for lunch at the Stone Drum restaurant. In the courtyard are many tables filled with Naxi people.

Except, none of them are eating lunch. They are playing majong, dice, dominoes, or cards as though it is a holiday.

The faces are animated and noticeably, none are young. Vicki claims this is very unusual and asks around. She learns that a government official is due in the village and will speak to the elders today. They are waiting for him while we lunch.

The eating area was separated from the courtyard by a curtain of chili peppers.

I managed to get two  pictures of the open-air restaurant kitchen, the cooking area…

And the pantry. I didn’t see a refrigerator, but they must have one. This is an inland village and the only place we ate that didn’t have fish on the menu. Service here is more casual than city restaurants and the foods simpler but still delicious.

It was a photo bonanza for us, the magnificent faces, the interplay at the tables, the rapt concentration on their games.

I saw two men smoking an opium pipe.

They were very attentive when their speaker arrived. What is he saying, I asked Vicki. “Oh, just  lot of government propaganda. We all laughed. Same as home!

We had fifteen minutes to walk around and stretch our legs before getting back on the bus. Wanning tried to talk with this bent over little man. She speaks Chinese but couldn’t understand the language  even with the help of another Chinese  fellow.

Again, the Naxi were not the least bit shy about having their pictures taken and indicated to me they wanted to see the results; obviously familiar with digital cameras.

This fellow wanted to sell me a stool he had made.  I could only take a picture.

After we loaded into the bus, this woman was seeking to sell trinkets through the windows. Vicki called her a beggar and told us it is very unusual to find a beggar in a remote village like this one. Vicki didn’t want us to buy from her and the bus drove off before any transactions could be made. We are headed for the airport to take us to Kunming.  More tomorrow.

BIKING THE CANAL AND THE SANDWICH GLASS MUSEUM

We drove the Bronco to Sandwich to enter the bike trail at the visitors center. An early start, about 9:00. The bike path is smooth, paved, and flat. We had a brisk breeze and some shade along the canal. Beautiful.

We passed under the Sagamore Bridge winging our way. Every other light post, it seemed, had a cormorant posing for us.

Very accustomed to humans, the birds don't fly when you get close. 

On the first leg of the journey, we saw many people out reel fishing. I stopped to take pictures of some flowers. I saw many of those I recognized from the film the day before.

 I managed to get a rare photo of a cottontail. This one froze for just a few seconds and I got it. 

Its 13 miles up and back, but an easy ride, even for someone as out of shape as we are. I haven't done much biking since my rotator cuff surgery last year and I was unsure if I could do it. But, it was a breeze. The trail is limited to walkers, inline skaters, and bikers. Everyone is considerate and we enjoyed our morning in the sunshine.

From a distance, we could see that the train bridge at Bourne was down to let a train by. We've seen it now from just about every angle.

 The Boston & Sandwich Glass Company was built in Sandwich Massachusetts because of its goodly supply of wood needed to fire the furnaces for glass making. Deming Jarvis eyed the place twenty years earlier but didn't get the money together to build his factory until 1825.

 This young woman, one of five glass blowers at the Sandwich Glass Museum Cooperative, gave a demonstration of how the work is done. A very comprehensive demonstration. The glass is melted, rolled in additives that give it strength, color and clarity, then blown and shaped, heated again, shaped more by rolling the glass and patting and shaping it, with paddles and tongs, then adding more molten glass and repeating the procedure.
There is also a 21 minute film here, but skip it if you go. The exhibits throughout explain the history of the glass factory very well. Everyone walked out of the film.

Then you get to drool your way through 15 rooms with walls and walls full of glass, much of it in front of windows to play to the light. Gorgeous.

 Jarvis made glass for many notables including a president or two. He had 500 employees at his factory at one time. Most of the items were made in the 1800's and you wouldn't necessarily recognize them, such as a  ladies snuff bottle and fainting spirits bottle. Nor this gold fish bowl below.

  This is beyond a doubt the greatest and most beautiful collection of Sandwich Glass, worth spending several hours to see it. Jarvis was the first glass blower to blow glass successfully into a mold. He describes the anger other glass blowers felt when he proved this could be done successfully. It gave him a business edge, mass production.

 One room had modern art glass. (More on that later.) There are other glass artists shown in the museum, though most of the collection is Sandwich Glass.
The Sandwich Co-operative that operates along with the museum, sells work in the museum store. Here are a couple of pictures of Sandwich Co-operative Glasswork for sale:

 Graceful vases in lavender and blue...

 And a  beautiful orange pipe. (And much more.)

MARIGNY AND THE FRENCH MARKET

My partner Jim wanted to visit the French Market. We walked through the old area of Marigny and found everything French, signs, a Frenchmen Hotel, a Paris fountain, a statue of Joan Of Arc, and Frenchmen Street, which made Jim very happy.

The street scenes here are San Francisco, Haight-Ashbury, University Ave., Berkeley, 1960’s. Street musicians, laid back, friendly people, artists, dogs to pet. Shops with opium pipes and cigarette rollers; a strong gay and lesbian population. Homey, ragtag eating places, tacos on the street, everybody has to make a living, man! (I found a another endangered species- a working telephone booth.)

The music never stops. Everywhere, people are having a good time. Everyone knows everyone’s business and they like it that way. One shop keeper told us that Marigny was just chosen the best neighborhood in the United States. He didn’t have much in the way of detail, who judged it, or what criterion.

This graffitied building even had its windows painted over, but it was open for some kind of business. I opened the door and peeked and got a glimpse of a billiard table.

This clinched the Haight with this well used telephone pole.

The Spotted Cat piano player was hammering out tunes. The joint was small and cozy. At night, I’m guessing it is a very friendly place. I want to come back here.

A woman told me she lives next door to this “found junk” artist. Her comment, “You should see his yard!” I laughed because I would have loved to see his yard.

When we reached the French Market, music was in full swing. This costumed fellow jumped off the stage and played with the crowd. Oh, the costume, to die for.

As you might guess, characters abound here. And this gent decided you don’t have to wear your mask on your face.

Boiled peanuts were a new food to me. Though salty, they were quite good. We enjoyed Creole chicken with dirty rice and peas; and alligator sausage stew from a market booth. Both choices were delicious, plentiful and cheap. We saw people waiting in line 20 deep to get into buy a muffaletto sandwich.

If you don’t have jazz musician friends, you can still have a jazz funeral. A mime told me and I quote: “You only have to do three things. Die. In order to die you have to live. In order to live you have to take a good shit once in awhile.” Street wisdom!

We wondered back to “The Quarter” , stopped for real brews at Crescent City Brewhouse and watched the kid shuck oysters. He told us he sometimes does this for 13 hours straight. He makes it look pretty easy, but you have to have the right tools because it isn’t easy.

Around Jackson square the proselytizers were in full sway. The gentleman above challenged passersby to a chess match for $5 a game. Fortune tellers, tarot dealers, face painters, portrait painters, street musicians, artists and tourists crowded the square.

We visited a jillion souvenir shops trying to find a frog hat for Jim. Alligators? Plenty. But no frogs.

I took a lot of pictures. You can check them out with this link.

http://picasaweb.google.com/1579penn/FrenchMktNO2010#