长河落日, 大漠龙沙. 既寻苏五十不见, 东风(OSLC)亦不与陈郎便.  不得已落魄玛拉笛(前旗与乌审旗间,蒙语牧民之义). 大炕同眠四人, 闲来得律两首, 记此定边之旅:

 

 

夕照龙沙上, 苍凉唯落晖
南征北战罢, 西气东输归
车显风尘貌, 人多关塞衣
今宵羌曲里, 挑灯会张飞

 

边城一别百千里, 大漠长驱三两天
车自重庆发长庆, 人由延边戍定边
黄沙划地胡风泣, 红日升空娇客眠
总为苍天红粉妒, 忍将锦绣付油田

 

PetroChina's Sulige field to have 4 bln cu m of production capacity by yr-end
November 18, 2007: 09:51 PM EST

Nov. 18, 2007 (Thomson Financial delivered by Newstex) --

BEIJING (XFN-ASIA) - The Sulige gas field, operated by PetroChina Co Ltd (HK 0857), the country's largest oil and gas producer, is expected to have production capacity of 4 bln cubic meters by the end of the year as more wells come onstream, PetroChina parent China National Petroleum Corp said.

The gas field, located in northern China's Inner Mongolia region, had gas output of 270 mln cubic meters in 2006.

Currently, the field produces over 10 mln cubic meters of gas per day, it said.

Sulige, in the Ordos Basin, has proven gas reserves of more than 100 bln cubic meters.

The field is near a pipeline which links western China with major customers in Shanghai and Nanjing.

In March 2006, PetroChina Co Ltd signed an agreement with France's Total SA (NYSE:TOT) to jointly develop Sulige.

 

--  Charles Trenet, Route Nationale 7

 

 

 So on Route Nationale 7 we were riding, towards la Porte d'Italie.  In the Peugeot 1007 Ray Peterson was singing,

 

No one knows what happened that day
Or how his car overturned in flames
But as they pulled him from the twisted wreck
With his dying breath, they heard him say

Tell Laura I love her
Tell Laura I need her
Tell Laura not to cry
My love for her will never die

Near Lyon there were several electrical sign boards on which read some warnings, such as Moderez votre allure en Pluie, Vous etes vivant, restez-le.  I was thinking about car accidents and was happy that compared to Tommy, I was still alive, driving with my good friends on la Route Bleue.   Of course I had not thought for a second that the same thing could happen to us during the very next hour. 

 

The Route Nationale 7, a.k.a. La Route Bleue, is one of the longest and most famous National road of France.  It links Paris to the famous Cote d'Azur (where the name Route Bleue came from), through la Province.  The famous RN7 starts from Notre-Dame de Paris (do not ask me why it always has sth. to do with this Victor Hugo place), leaves the French capital via la Porte d'Italie.  Near Lyon, it first reaches Roanne, then by Col de Pin-Bouchin (about 10km north to Tarare), it passes right thru a tiny town called Tarare (about 10k population).  For some strange reasons, from Lyon we decided not to take the Autoroute A6 Lyon-Paris, which we took last Nov., but the Nationale 7.  I guess the previously cited French chanson was one of the reasons.

 

Let me quote the Wikipedia about this "col du Pin-Bouchin: est le point culminant de la RN7, à 760m d'altitude, quelques 10 km de Tarare. ", because it is the place where I stayed for more than 48 hours in the centre hospitalier de Tarare and where the whole story started. 

 

I am never good at narrative writings, so I will just keep the long story short:  May 8th, Monday, 2:30pm, on the Col du Pin-Bouchin, after making a 180deg (speaking of 180deg turns, I identified a lot of divine places, which are even better than Mt. Akina, for you Drifting-lovers, in the Province) right turn, the steer was blocked and I could not readress it back.  The Peugeot kept turning right and ended up in the roadside trench, where it made a splendid 120deg overturn and threw everthing in the car upside-down.  Two of my friends got injured and were sent to the Centre Hospitalier de Tarare.  One of them had her head hit hard and stayed 2 days and 2 nights under suiveillance.  She is still feeling dazed now.  Oh, did I mention that it rained very hard and we had to stay in the heavy cold rain for about an hour before the ambulance could carry my friends to the hospital?  We were the second of the three accidents within that same day at Col Pin-Bouchin, and we were told that this is a killer place, esp. in rainy days.  Next morning I saw our appearance on the local section of Le Progres:

 

Pin-Bouchin: trois blese apres une sortie de route

Tandis que la pluie rendait hier vers 14 h 45 la route particulierement glissante, un vehicule a quitte la chaussee alors qu'il circulait en direction de Roanne.  A son bord, cinq personnes dont trois ont ete legerement blessees. Deux d'entre elles ont ete touefois transportees al'hopital de Tarare.  Dans le meme secteur, d'autres vehicules ont egalement glissee mais sans gravite. 

 

Again, we were extremely lucky.  What if the car went to the other side of the road, where the cliff of the Monts du Lyonnais locates?  What if there was a car running fast and hit us from behind, as shown in the French TV publicite?  what if . . .

 

Life is all composed of hypotheses, and yet it is so fragile that if one of them was placed wrong, in a matter of seconds, you are crossing the line between life and death. 

 

Cherish the life, mes amis, as long as you still possess it. 

On chante, on fête
Les oliviers sont bleus ma p'tite Lisette
L'amour joyeux est là qui fait risette
On est heureux Nationale 7.

 

 

 

The last May I spent in Paris was 3 years ago, right before my thesis defense. 

 

I knew I should have no problem with my French carta visa, after all, I spent 5 years there.  But it was frightening when I was told that this and that documents, along with the critical visa appointment, were missing.  I thought it had almost failed to come, just like the spring in Paris. 

 

and Now ladies and gents, let's celebrate the spring, the youth, and the life in the city of light, en mois de mai !!! 

 

Before updating on my ski strip last weekend, I want to first thank my friends Gale, Jeff, and Eric for their combined effort to get my cell phone back from the Killington Cruise Control slope.

 

So I went to this traditional ski trip of SDR in Vermont last weekend, for 4 days.  I improved quite a bit and at the beginning of the fourth day, under the encouragement of Min-Yin, I found myself on a Blue Trail, the Cruise Control. . .  I survived, but lost my cell phone on the slope.

 

Min-Yi forgot some of his stuff at Gale's house (where we stayed for 4 nights) that morning, so when Gale found them, she called Min-Yi.  With Min-Yi we were on the slope so she didnot get him.  Advised by Jeff, they thought of me and called my cellphone.  It turned out to be this very phonecall that gave the guy who picked up my phone on the slope a chance to find the owner of the phone.  After knowing that I lost my phone, Gale thought of Eric, the only other guy who decided to ski at Killington on the fourth day.  Fortunately enough, Eric was still there when she called at 4h30 pm (all the lifts were closed at 4pm, so it was really just in time), and got my phone from the lodge.  Eric had yet to convince them that the phone owner is his friend, fortunately, he succeeded to do so.  So I was extremely lucky:

 

- someone found my phone in the snow (it's a silver one so it's rather difficult to see it in white snow on a steep slope).

- Gale and Jeff called at the mean time. ('cause they found Min-Yi's stuff and could not locate Min-Yi and thought I was with him)

- Eric was still there to pick up the phone for me.

 

Conclusions:

- New England is a wonderful place.

- I am in a great ambience, professionally and personally.

 

 

P.S.

 

I forgot to mention the reason that Eric succeeded to convince them: he showed his cellphone contact list, on which there is an entry named after Gale, our colleague who called me.  Then there is, coincidentally, also an entry on my cellphone with the name Gale Hu, who is a friend I met in Paris. 

 

To tell the truth, I didnot expect the following result, I was expecting Japanese/Italien.

 

 

***You Should Learn French***

C'est super! You appreciate the finer things in life... wine, art, cheese, love affairs.
You are definitely a Parisian at heart. You just need your tongue to catch up...

What Language Should You Learn?
http://www.blogthings.com/whatlanguageshouldyoulearnquiz/

. . .

 

Hua  survived, 6 hours driving from Boston to RF, right in the middle of the storm. . .

 

Hua again completed his life with another exordanary experience. . .

 

 

P.S.

A byproduct of yesterday's adventure is a small scientific experiment on the car milage/gallon:  I noticed this morning that my car consumed (maybe .5-1 gallon) less gas returning from Boston than going to (7.8 gallons).  I was driving typically 30-35mph during most of the return trip, on the ice/snow.  Bizzard, was my first impression after having noticed the fact.  of course, as most of you have figured out, it's not hard to explain:  my car consumed less gas 'cause it needed less energy to overcome the friction from the road, which had a much less friction coeff., thanks to the ice/snow covering surface. 

 

 

 

话说美利坚海角天涯 Key West 之落日乃一大奇观. 怎见得? 有诗图为证:

 

 

不日刘兄作和,  言尽乡关之思.

 

 

 

 

 

 

La derniere nuit a la ville lumiere

Im still in XS Arena, Soufflot, wondering where to have my last supper

allez, je me casse pour deux semaines

donnot try to look for me

Dans la cite natale ou la Seine est jaune

I will find you

 

 

.

..

...

 

 

I had too much on my plate. . .  so for the souvenir of the movie that I watched last night, I decided to have my last dinner in the best Couscouserie I know in Paris, the one in the street Cardinal Lemoine, faced to Heyminway's poor apartment,  near Place Contrespace.  I almost ate double as much as I usually could,  and drank twice my capability as well.  The garcon misunderstood my order and opened a whole bottle of Medea (a kind of famous Algerian wine), instaed of a demi.  . .  I was not forced to finish it, and the garcon was gentle enough to charge me only for a demi, but hey, who can resist such a delicious,accompanied with a Brick Royal and a Couscous Royal?  

 

Il etait une fois dans l'oued, a story about a young French who adores Arabic culture to such a degree that he dreamed all day long that he was an arab. . .  why not?  if you feel best in Algeria, then you are an algerian, no matter what color your skin is, or what language you speak.  The essential is that the city/country where you want most to live, is your hometown. 

 

Many years ago, when I was asked by a Japanese girl in an evening in Maastricht: "so you hqve been to many cities, which one do you think is the most beautiful?".  Naively enough, I was only 21 and it had been more than 1 year that i had been aboard, I answered with pride, with no hesitation, "Shanghai, of course".  She was astonished, as well as our friends.  My naive nationalism was not well interpreted, I guess, in such a multi-nationality student evening. 

 

Years have passed since then, now if you ask me the same question again, SH, I think, will be certainly out of the top ten list.  It has been so long that i havenot truly been living in SH, my native town, and its image is fading away from my memory. . .

 

 

Allez, I have to go back now, to pack up my baggages;  I have to go back now, to pick up my lost memories. . .  

 

allez, je me casse.  Rue Soufflot - climb up toward Pantheon, turn right at Rue d'Ulm, go towards ENS, turn left at Rue de l'Esptrapade, passing the triangle with Rue blainville, Rue Thouin, arriving at Contrascarpe, Rue Moufftard, Passage des Patriarches, Rue des Patriaches, 24 Rue des Patriaches, 3e etage, porte face a l'escalier, and I am home. . .

 

but really?  home, where is my home? Censier-Daubenton?  it was.  ligne 7 - RER B - CDG - MU556 - PVG - AVIS - home?  it was.  AF07 CDG-JFK -RF- Danbury road - home?  It sounds like, but I doubt.  home, sweet home, where r u?  am I a man lost in translation? 

 

allez, je me casse.

 

 

in the beautiful town of St. Germain-en-laye, Au feu de St. Ger,  with V we decided to take the Medoc 96 on the bottom of the list.  you know it is a very good wine, you've tasted it years ago in Paris, it left you a very tender impression.  now it had enought time to be aged just perfectly, but you donnot know yet whether it matches well with your souris d'agneux or not.  you are still on your entree, 9 huitres, accompanied with a cup of Chablis.  you have to be patient. . .  you will have your chance finally to try the Medoc, it is so attractive and charming to you, at this moment.  but you have to wait, it is not time yet. . .

 

 

 

 

Je me balade dans la rue, je me balade dans la vie. . .  la vie parisienne. . . la vie en rose . . .

 

It was magnificient to refind rue montorgueil, it was not easy to choose among dozens of good restaurants; it was great to refind UGC chatelet, it was not evident to choose among dozens of good movies; it was magique to get myself off RER B at Luxembourg, and wander in the rue Soufflot, it was not difficult to choose the internet cafe,for there is only one, the one where Im sitting in at this moment, and my ticket 1 year and a half ago beofre I left Paris is still working. 

 

The quartier montorgueil is one of the best in Paris, and maybe the only good one on the Right Bank (OK, you are right, the eternelle Champs-Elysee is another one), it is the equivalent of Left Bank's Moufftard, IMHO;  Le Rocher de Cancale is one of the best restaurants that I recognize in Paris, and their sea's fruits are just sublime; UGC is alwyas the best cinema in Paris, and UGC Chatelet is alwyas the most frequented one by Rose and myself, thanks to the fact that most movies en VO - Version Originqle are only available there (and at Bercy).  The UGC Illimite is sth thqt Im missing this time. . . 17Euros per month, for all the movies.  . .I enjoyed almost every movie, sometimes with Rose sleeping peacefully in my left arm.   what a moveable feast it was!  esp. when you were young and poor in Paris! 

 

Il ne faut jurer de rien is a fantastique movie, adapted from a theatre drama, a comedie, to be exact.  Paris during the Revolution era, what a charmante and glorious epoque!  Then you get Gerard Jugnot, who basically can interpret whatever role, I've found, a star of comedie francaise.  in addition you have Jean Dujardin, today's Alain Delon or Belmondo, I found he is more comparable to Vincent Perez. . .  esp. in Fanfan la Tulip. . . the same sort of Dandy conquering the heart of a noble girl.  if you have watched Fanfan, or Fanfan la Tulip, you will understand my appraisal for Perez, and you will understand how I appreciated Dujardin.  Have to mention that, besides movies, Dujardin also plays in TV series.  I was never keen of TV series, acutually, of TV, but if there is a program that I appreciated a lot, it's the Un gars, une fille.  and yes, with no doubt, le famous Jean, est Jean Dujardin.  On top of Gerard and Jean, you have to know that one of my favorite French actress is also the heroine of this movie: la petite Melanie Doutey. . . a single phrase to describe: smiling eyes fatale.

 

 

你看过了许多美景
你看过了许多美女

你品尝了夜的巴黎
你踏过下雪的北京

 

你累计了许多飞行
你用心挑选纪念品

你拥抱热情的岛屿
却说不出旅行的意义

 

 

Things go around in cycles, generations after generations, yet as the old saying goes, Plus ca change, plus ca reste la meme chose.  Post-war Paris in the twenties, post-war Paris in the fifties, and Paris across the new millinium, Paris is always Paris, la ville lumiere.  US Lost Generation in the twenties, European baby-boome in the fifties, and Chinese lost generation nowadays, history is just repeating itself, regardless of the free will of man.

 

As you might have guessed, the Paris Trilogy will cover three fabled eras of the City of Light, in 20's, 50's and 00's, guided by Hemingway, Karnow, and Hua himself, respectively. 

 

Everything started from Place Contrescarpe, Cafe des Amateurs.  Not a good example of Parisien cafe, Cafe des Amateurs does have its own promises: strangely named aperitifs, drunkards of the quartier, and being the cesspool of Moufftard.  To escape from it and go to a good cafe on the Place St.Michel, of which the name I ignore, you have to walk down past the Lycee Henri IV and the ancient Eglise St.Etienne-du-Mont and the Place du Pantheon and then cut in for shelter to the right and finally come out on the lee side of the Boulevard St.Michel and walk down it past the Cluny and the Boulevard St.Germain. . .  a long and pleasant journey, isnot it?  After such a long walk, you should reward yourself a cafe au lait, and mayeb some St.James.

 

One of the most romantic scene in Paris: you walk down by river and along the quais, in the rue de Seine and look in all galeries and windows of the shops, stop at any cafe and have a drink, no, two drinks, with your beloved one.  Then you eat somewhere else, no, since you are poor and young, you go home and have a lovely meal and drink Beaune (not une Bea), and afterwards you will read and then go to bed and make love.  and you will never love anyone else but each other, No never.  What a lovely afternoon and evening. . .  when you are young and poor and you are in Paris, you can live a very happy life.

 

The chapitre that I appreciated most was "Hunger was good discipline".  I couldnot stop laughing when he said, "I learned to understand Cezanne much better and to see truly  how he made landscapes when I was hungry.  I used to wonder if he was hungry too when he painted. . .  Later I thought Cezanne was probably hungry in a different way."  Actually I tried it out once, at Musee d'Orsay.  I was both hungry and sleepless at that time and I lost a friend's wallet that afternoon - probably in one of those impressionism rooms, and. . . and I still didnot understand how Cezanne made his landscape.

 

The best place to cure your hunger is with no doubt Lipp's Brasserie, where Hemingway would have a distingué,  a litre sized mug of beer, a cervela, sausages split in two and covered in a mustard sauce and pommes á l'huile d'oliv over which he would grind black pepper while dipping his bread. . .  and to finish off, he would order a demi.

 

The Closerie des Lilas was the nearest good cafe when Hemingway lived in the sawmill at 113 rue Notre-Dame-des-Champs - which unfortunetely exists no longer today, and it was one of the best cafes in the City of Light.   It was where poets met more or less regularly and where Hemingway wrote his Sun.  I had the first Irish Coffee in my life there.  After half dozen of drinks and warm discussions with an energetic old man (I think he showed us around at least three different pubs with good ambience that night, mainly near Boulevard St. German), he warned me to cherish my "girlfriend", and to ask for her hand before she would escape from Paris, which I did not.  Nevertheless, Paris, the magic Paris, the enchanted Paris, who is capable to escape from her?

 

There is never any ending to Paris.  and the memory of each person who lived in it differs from that of any other.  We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached or the visas could be issued.  Paris, is always worth it and you will receive return for whatever you bring to it, hope, excitement, or happiness. 

 

 

So this is how Paris was in the early days when we were very poor and very happy. 

 

So Hua passed his life mostly behind the steer this weekend.  Over 2000 miles he drove. . . across the Country of Maples.