Shenzhen food – IJM Photography

Welcome back to China, Dear Reader. First, let me tell you a little about Shenzhen to set the scene. It’s massive—really massive. Just across the bay is Hong Kong, which we handed back in 1997. Yes, we actually gave back a colony! It can happen. Shenzhen used to be Hong Kong’s poorer sibling, standing in its shadow. But China had bigger plans, determined to create a statement city to rival Hong Kong. Now, Shenzhen is home to 17 million people, boasting every modern convenience imaginable, even a higher GDP than Hong Kong.

The first thing I noticed here was the relative tidiness of the electric mopeds compared to Foshan. They were everywhere but parked neatly in rows, a small yet striking difference. We were staying near the UK China International College, which felt a little like home and looked rather grand. Across the road was a McDonald’s—a far nicer one than the ones in Nantes. I couldn’t help but wonder if visiting a McDonald’s in Shenzhen feels as novel to locals as Chinese restaurants do to us back home. Watching children celebrate their birthdays there was a joy. I promised myself I’d stop by later to experience it properly—but that, Dear Reader, will be for another time.

On the road from Foshan to Shenzhen, our organiser, Yuan Yuan, asked if we wanted to join an excursion on our first full day here. It included visiting a village—a sort of condensed version of China—and a park with miniature monuments from across the country. All for 25 euros. As a slightly introverted person, the idea of being stuck on a bus with a group filled me with dread. Oh heavens, no! I decided to opt out and spend the day enjoying some alone time, exploring the city, and indulging in street photography—a much-needed mental reset.

I’m not much for breakfasts, so I sipped my tea quietly, savouring every drop, alone, in my room. Tea—a hug in a mug. Much like chicken soup for the Jews: it might not cure anything, but it never hurts. I quietly prepared for the day, ticking off my morning routine. Triple S, of course, minus the smoke—it’s been 26 years since I quit. Feeling reasonably presentable, I headed down to the lobby to absorb the city’s atmosphere.

The first thing that struck me was the mild, sunny climate. It felt like a Northumberland summer, but in the middle of winter. Invigorating! As I stepped outside, I spotted one of the double bass players in the hotel shop. Should I avoid him and enjoy some me time? I hesitated but ended up joining him on a bench. He offered me a cookie, which was gladly accepted with the good grace with which it was offered. We chatted about nothing in particular, enjoying the weather—two blokes, passing the time of day.

Later, Michel, my walking companion for the morning, decided it was time to move out. I warned him I’d stop often to take photos, and he was happy to wait. The night before, my wife had remarked that while my photos were great, she’d like to see some in colour. Oh really? Challenge accepted.

We strolled at a leisurely pace—perfect for soaking in the city’s atmosphere and capturing its essence through my lens. Michel patiently waited as I darted around, snapping shots like a dog owner indulging their pup’s curious sniffs. I was content to get my daily paces in while immersing myself in Shenzhen’s charm, the perfect start to a day of exploration.

We arrived back at the hotel, and I was starting to feel slightly peckish. What more could I need than a visit to McDonald’s to help me out? Two of the lads had been there the night before and shared their thoughts about everything—the similarities and differences. I just had to go and see for myself. I ordered a double Filet-O-Fish, a bamboo and chicken wrap, a large coke, crinkle-cut chips, and an Oreo McFlurry. It cost me a grand total of 75 yuan, which seemed very reasonable. The lads hadn’t enjoyed the wrap much, but I found it to be delicious, and it really hit the spot. At least a four out of five for me!

Stuffed full of McDonald’s and pleased with my morning’s wandering, I made my way back to the hotel, ready for a short rest before heading out again. Shenzhen by day had been a pleasant surprise—neatly parked mopeds, familiar-yet-different fast food, and a city that felt both vast and oddly welcoming.

But Shenzhen by night? That was something else entirely. The streets lit up with neon, the air thick with the scent of street food sizzling away on open grills. Couples strolling, friends gathered around hotpot tables, and electric mopeds whizzing past, their riders silent but swift. The city didn’t slow down—it just changed gear.

With my camera in hand and my curiosity still buzzing, a whole group of us stepped back outside. Time to see what Shenzhen had to offer after dark.

Operation Shenzhen Nights was about to be launched…

Welcome, dear reader, to another round of “what happens on tour, stays on tour.” So, where were we? It was the morning in Foshan. I had time to go out and explore before the drive to Shenzhen.

I would wander the streets and just take the odd photo. At the moment I’m doing an intermittent fast to try and help me lose some of the extra baggage I’m carrying around my tummy and part of that is having a window of when I can eat and when I can’t. That morning I decided to not be so hard on myself.

I was thinking about Killian and my tummy and just “popped in” to a local supermarket which was definitely on the super side. As I passed each aisle I was thinking about how Killian would have felt seeing all the produce. It was going to be impossible to fit a 25kg bag of rice in my suitcase so that will have to wait. I left, with regret, but still kept going on.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a shop specialising in blueberries—or Myrtilles, as we call them in France. There are one of my major food weaknesses, and when at home they have become the new Smarties. Yes, I eat them by that handful. The gentleman at the till spoke wonderful english, and I ordered a glass of mixed up berries with ice. I was going to get those anti-oxidants and that yummy juice. I was happy. On the way back to the hotel, some of the youngsters passed me by. They had been to Starbucks. Well good for them. I had had my juice and felt far more superior, and healthier!

It would be a mere 135km by bus to Shenzhen. I was going to remain antisocial (is this a character trait?) and just chill. Shenzhen is one of those places that is huge. We seemed to be driving in its suburbs forever. Out of the window we could see Hong Kong, where a lot of us would have fancied going but it was not to be. It was like seeing a Christmas present and it being taken away before you can unwrap it.

We arrived at the hotel and I thought, “well this will do for the next four days…” and indeed it would! We traisped up to our room and it was fine! Maybe not as modern as some of the others that had obviously been refurbished. We were on the more “classic” floor. But it was for sleeping in, and those pillows again. Wow!

Now, let’s get this out of the way: I’m still a “big” man. Like many of us, I carry around a hefty complex about my body. Even though I’ve lost some weight, I’m still too self-conscious to deal with the horror of getting changed in a room full of less rotund gentlemen. Silly, I know, but those of you who’ve been there will understand. Anyway, there I was, looking halfway decent—or at least as much as my concert attire would allow. But I am not just Big Uncle Ian. I’m also a horn player with a few years of practice under my belt. I help keep my section together, and I know they can depend on me when needed.

When we pulled up to the venue, the sheer size of the theatre was a bit overwhelming—in the best possible way. I can’t speak for the others, but when I arrive at a venue, I like to take a moment to soak it all in. First, I park my instrument in the wings, safe from the risk of being knocked over by an overzealous stagehand, then I step onto the stage to breathe in the atmosphere. You know, just to get a sense of the place.

A long banner in Chinese draped across the front balcony greeted us. It looked very official, like the kind of thing you’d expect at an international summit. Nearby, neatly stacked boxes of red flags caught my eye. It reminded me of a joke I once cracked about my son’s ex-girlfriend: “That girl had more red flags than the Chinese Communist Party Convention.” But these flags, though? They were no joke—definitely more on the serious side of things.

Looking up, I couldn’t help but marvel at the rigging. Lights and decorations were everywhere, hanging in their designated spots, all set to work their magic later. The whole setup was impressive—so much so, I hadn’t even properly stepped onto the stage yet.

When I did, I looked out at the sea of seats waiting to be filled. The thought of all those Chinese bums soon occupying them was enough to make anyone feel a touch nervous. But this is what we’re here for, isn’t it? You’ve got your program, you’ve done your prep. All that’s left is to get out there and play. Do, don’t think. Just blow…

We were to perform the same concert as the previous one. That doesn’t change. What does change is the audience and the way in which they interact with your music. When Jennifer sang her “I Love You China” song, it was as if the audience needed permission to sing along. Once given, they sang perfectly, and just like that, they were on our side.

Corentin—sorry, Sir Fanny Magnet—leapt up for the waltzes and had as much success as ever with his growing fan club. That poor boy just gives and gives, and when there’s nothing left, still keeps giving, much to the delight of the many Chinese lady fans. Fortunately, he was accompanied by Paul (the duck tongue) Trouillet and two lucky ladies from the orchestra. Sharing is most certainly caring, and these two just give, give, give, and share, share, share.

As always, during the interval and before and after the concert, the staff put out fruit, tea, and bottles of water for us. As you know, I’m not a big drinker, but I make sure to drink at least two litres of water and eat plenty of fruit and vegetables daily. It keeps me regular. I had been missing both my water and fruit rations, so I stuffed myself with fiber for my gut. They might not do water, but they certainly do do wonderful tea—and that was a lifesaver.

Corentin, the poor boy, was going through coffee withdrawal symptoms. You see, we all have our troubles to deal with!

After the concert, our familiar routine awaited us: the bus, the restaurant, and eventually bed. Or so I thought—Corentin had other plans. I had eaten with my Cholet friends and learned that the boy wanted to try his hand at Mahjong. It’s a game where four players sit at a table, and to win, you need to form pairs of tiles and a sequence of tiles. I had joined my Cholet friends for an after-meal beer to discuss our plans for the upcoming visit to Shenzhen. Once we had made our plans, we headed down to the Mahjong table to see how our favourite Walzer was faring.

By the time we all went to bed, that boy had won three out of four games! Luckily, no money was changing hands, but we did learn that huge debts can be racked up playing this game. The Chinese do like their betting.

Talking of giving, and sharing, here is recording of that night’s concert. Featuring Sir Fanny Magnet et Paul “Duck Tongue” Trouillet dancing and lapping up the attention…