As I was saying, Shenzhen, China is a sprawling city, it’s hard to believe that places like Sanmenkou Island co-exist with monolithic concrete creations. The airport and the Shenzhen’s beaches are separated by 50 km. I’ve been to the beach twice in my almost five years in China. I like the beach, I don’t like public transportation. Luckily, on our October holiday excursion, a friend had a car.

Dongchong beach was our destination. From there it was tickets on a small and scary boat across the water to Sanmenkou Island. The boat’s pilot, a Kejia man, has skin the color of leather from his daily journeys back and forth across the south China Sea, smiled as his craft smashed through the waves and his passenger squealed.

A large dog, in China? Sanmenkou Island must be a magic place.

If you’re from a large city you can appreciate what Sanmenkou has to offer. The island rises like a tree-covered, crooked finger from the Pacific. There are few cars, few people, and the only sounds are children splashing in the sea and the waves lapping at the sand and rocks.  Peaceful. Serene. Idyllic.

A photographer (or two) have been known to shoot Shenzhen's Sanmenkou Island.

Most of eastern Shenzhen is undeveloped. There are settled areas, but the green mountains make urbanization difficult. Two nuclear power plants and a prison share the area, as do merry-makers looking for a quiet escape.

Sanmenkou Island is place where time has little meaning. People seem to drift from place to place, ghosts of their busy city selves. Small hotels, fresh seafood, the remains of a military facility, and climbable hills offer these ghosts a variety of way to stay content. An afternoon on the island is a restful tonic to the weary urban warrior or the burnt-out traveler.

The day never ends at Sanmenkou and Dongchong beach. As dusk settles hordes of people arrive to spend the night on the beach. Facing east, it offers the early-riser a chance to watch the sun rise over the Pacific Ocean

Dusk over the mountains at Sanmenkou Beach, Shenzhen, China.

Thanks to David at Random Wire for recommending this great spot. His flickr images gives a much better picture of the place.

Getting to Sanmenkou Island, Shenzhen

Boats run from Xichong Beach and Dongchong Beach to Sanmenkou Island. Prices vary, be prepared to bargain.

Beach at Sanmenkou Island, Shezhen, China

It’s easy to forget that Shenzhen is more than just concrete. It’s a sprawling city, the east on the South China Sea.

Tomorrow: My day at the beach.  Stay tuned.

Mates for life. We could learn from fowl. Shenzhen, PRC, October 17, 2007.

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.
Friedrich Nietzsche

I bought some new duds for my new role as a … I don’t think I have a title at my new job. Mrs. Stevo gave me instructions before I went to the market. No XL-sized shirts. As I’ve lost weight she thought I could wear something a little less tent-like.

And nothing ugly.

Ugly is a pretty relative term. I won’t argue the fact that I do buy ugly shirts: In fact, the ugliest shirts I can find. Anyone who has visited China (no, not Beijing or Shanghai, and certainly not Hong Kong) will know that foreigners tend to be stared at. I figure I will give the staring public something to see, and possibly blind them, with an assortment of garish plaids and neon monstrosities. I use Asian Fashion to my advantage.

Aside: the day before I was wed my bride-to-be and we were taken to a restaurant in Hunan Province. The town boasts (occasionally) one foreign English teacher. We walked into the upscale eatery and the room went completely silent. It was like something from a movie. Every eye was focused on me. I think I was wearing an orange and yellow striped shirt. No, no one to the best of my knowledge, went blind.

Nothing ugly, she said.

Mrs. Stevo’s wardrobe has improved greatly since I first met her. Back in the heady dating days of 2005 she was festooned with lace and sequins. Her color combination were both frightening and interesting. Slowly, with a gentle nudge or two (and several pounds of severed sequins lodged inside the washing machine) she started to wear clothes I would call “classy.” I place the love of sequins at the feet of the Chinese education system. After 12 years of school uniforms you might be up for wearing a sequin or two.

Question: Did I buy anything ugly? Did you disobey the Hunanese fireball?

Unfortunately, no. A pink short-sleeve shirt, and golf shirts, purple and black (they say Polo and even have the little logo, but I don’t think they are strictly kosher). The Lee navy-blue trousers (knock-offs) have a size 34 waist. I haven’t worn something so small since my pre-fat days (before 2002). They are a little tight, not in the waist. I could be an extra on Queer as Folk if needed.

As soon as she returned from work Mrs. Stevo inspected my purchases. All passed muster, except the pink shirt – it was too faded and looked old. A passing grade for me.

I will sneak back to the market and buy something incredibly ugly. It’s a must.

If isolation tempers the strong, it is the stumbling-block of the uncertain. Paul Cezanne

I haven’t “worked” in two months.

The office I went to was the one beside my bedroom. My habits didn’t become slothful: I still woke up with the sun and puttered around. Good things never last. I spent yesterday in a cubicle at the Chinese business that has retained my services. I didn’t have to look for many jobs in china.

I’ve been working with them since the beginning of August, copyrighting, editing, and researching from home. Two weeks ago I was suppose to start in the office, 30 kilometers away in an industrial area of the city.  But I didn’t. Like many things in China, plans change.

It’s too far, my boss said, speaking of my daily commute. We’ll get you an apartment. I only work in office three days a week (two days from home).  An apartment for two nights a week? Okay. Fine.

The following week: We need to hire someone that speaks English. It will be too difficult for you. Okay. Fine. Not having an English speaker around sums up my life. I can deal with a class of mischievous six-year-olds who don’t speak English, business people shouldn’t be a problem. I don’t think one of them will punch me in the groin while I’m trying to explain something to a colleague.

Then: We need to get the furniture for your apartment. Pick it out.

(I’m not complaining, really. All the concerns have been about me and how to make my life  easier. This speaks to how awesome everyone is. Bless them and their hearts of gold.)

Long story short (too late, I know) I went to the office yesterday. I sat in my assigned cubicle, interviewed a couple of applicants (English speakers), and wondered how I could make my VPN compatible with the office’s network.

I spoke little. I was alone. My colleague at the next desk would send me messages via MSN. No distractions: No computer games or Mrs. Stevo asking where the rice is. Just work.

8 am to noon (although I arrived at 8:30), 1:30 pm to 5:30 pm. Home to the sweaty embrace of Mrs. Stevo. Damn, a normal job! My old life teaching English in China saw me finish work at 8:30 pm, and then usually engage in post-class malty libations in an effort to reduce the day’s accumulated stress. After falling into bed it would all start again.

This is new, but it’s old. I’ve logged my time in offices (far too much time) and thought it was only a memory. Not so.

The difference? My other jobs were based on my education – graphics and journalism. They didn’t speak to my interests. This endeavor is all about photography. I am being paid to blog about photography. Blog? Ha! (Mrs. Stevo usually scoffs at my internet ventures.)

I’m off and running (no, jogging). As soon as the wrinkles are ironed out I’ll be off and running. No more pencils, no more books. I’ll miss my babies (I already do), but there are good things on the horizon.

You see a lot of overloaded motorcycles and scooters in China (all of Asia for that matter). Each morning fresh vegetables (and pig carcasses) are delivered to local markets. The food in China is fresh – as in watching your fish being filleted before you take it home fresh.

How much stuff can get packed on two wheels? Only The Fates know.  Carrie at My Several Worlds has some photos of in her archive of vehicles of burden in Asia.

Scooters are cheap in China. Not cheap enough that everyone rides one, but cheap enough that the emerging middle class can purchase one to tool around on. I’m not sure why. Most housing estates come complete with a smorgasbord of markets and shops. The public transit system in Shenzhen, China, is one of the best in the nation. Scooter-ownership, and the problems that entails, seem superfluous.

Josh at Far West China recently purchased a motorcycle. I’m occasionally tempted to do the same, but the fact motorcycles are illegal in Shenzhen, China, holds me back. Yes, I could buy one, but only ride it around the estate.