Kunming Once More

My most recent work trip - and last for the year - to Kunming was so boring that I was hardly eager to write about it upon my return. Well, I was also procrastinating cos I was not feeling too good with my chain sneezing and hacking cough.

But heck, while the destination was one of the more uninspiring ones I've had to travel to for work, there were still some memorable moments in Kunming.

For instance, I dined at this restaurant called Blue Bird. C'mon, try reading the name of this restaurant in Hokkien. :)



Its funny name aside, the Blue Bird is one very affordable restaurant. Here, a good bottle of Jacob's Creek Shiraz Cabernet went for a mere RMB188 (S$38), which was half the price offered at the hotel across the street and only a couple of dollars more than what I would have to pay at a supermarket in Singapore.

What a steal, especially since the Blue Bird is a decent restaurant with a fancy Moroccan decor and attentive service.

Because I had some free time on this trip, I got to explore Kunming a bit. So one morning, I decided to stroll round the perimeter of the famed Green Lake Park, said to be a picturesque lake with waters a lively hue of jade. But to me, it was just a murky shade of algae green. Anyway, I came across this shop called Papparoti.

Wow. Papparoti, just like the name of the pastry chain that hit Singapore couple of years ago with its hugely popular coffee-scented buns.



But there in Kunming, Papparoti sold barbequed skewers of ostrich and yak meat. How strange, because 'roti' means bread in the Malay and Indonesian language.



My colleagues and I also visited 昆明老街 (Kunming Lao Jie), an enclave of old shophouses in Kunming that have been converted into touristy shops. And being foreign visitors, we just had to go there.

Unlike the conservation architecture in Singapore, the old shophouses in 昆明老街 were truly left to their own devices and the bitter elements, so much so they were pretty rundown.

Ahh, well. That's better than visiting new buildings that were deliberately fashioned after ancient ones.



The shops in 昆明老街 sold all sorts of knick-knacks and souvenirs, from hand-sewn cloth shoes and bags to military vests and helmets. There was also a sneaky looking woman who approached tourists with a small laminated poster showing photos of guns, and would point towards a darkened entrance of a rundown shop whenever the tourist showed some signs of interest.

One could also buy vegetables off large sheets of plastic mats placed on the ground. An odd fella or two also sold roasted corn on cob.



There were also stalls selling pets like birds, terrapins and hamsters.



Next to this pet stall was another with a cage of tiny rabbits. They were smaller than the ones I've seen in pet shops in Singapore. They were so immensely cute, nibbling furiously away on their lettuce.

Then my colleague ruined my fairytale moment by informing me that those rabbits were not sold as pets, but rather as meat. He pointed to a corner of the stall where two men were hosing off bloodstains from a large wooden plank that was probably used as a chopping board.

URGH.

But who am I to berate the Chinese (the French too, as I was told) for eating cute rabbits? Don't I eat cows, pigs, chickens and fish? Surely there must be animal lovers who are freaking out at my choice of diet too.

So that's that for Kunming.