The Canton Fair experience…

The sun finally came out yesterday morning and folks, it was a beautiful day here in Guangzhou. These first few photos are from my morning ride to the Canton Fair.  The Canton fair is on the eastern banks of the Pearl River.

That tower you can barely see in the distant haze is Guangzhou’s radio tower, which is a cool quarter of a mile high.  For a few years, it held the title of the world’s tallest structure. When Sue and I were here a few years ago, we went up in that tower and enjoyed its amazing aerial views of Guangzhou.  It’s impressive.  If you ever have an opportunity to visit Guangzhou, going up in the tower is something you want to do.  Trust me on this.

Here’s a shot taken while I was on the bridge crossing the Pearl River.   The oval building and the building with the wavy roof are part of the Canton Fair complex.

This is another shot looking south.  You can see the radio tower in the distance, and you can see the Canton Fair complex on the left.  Two hours by train (roughly following the Pearl River), and you’re in Hong Kong.  I’ve done that.

This is the Canton Fair’s Halls 9 through 13.  I guess that means Halls 1 through 8 are nearby.  I think there are more halls that go beyond Hall 13.  It’s a huge place.

This is the crowd entering the Canton Fair.   There are a lot of people here.

I have been sticking to the motorcycle exhibits during my time in Guangzhou, but I took a different entrance yesterday morning.   There are a lot of exhibits marketing to the construction industry.  China is still building furiously, and they evidently supply construction materials to a lot of the world.  Here are a few shots as I walked through these areas…

There are people here from the Middle East, Australia, South America, Africa, and  other places.  Yesterday while I was enjoying my now-standard lunch of beef-and-onion dumplings, an older fellow asked if he could sit at my table (the seating is very crowded because there are so many people here).  “Sure,” I said.  His English was a little rough, but he reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of flatbread.  He broke it in two and offered half to me.  Not wanting to be rude, I accepted it. I asked my new friend where he was from and his business.  He was a construction guy from Lebanon. My guess is that piece of flatbread was from Lebanon.  Imagine that…a guy from California at a motorcycle show breaking bread (literally) with a construction guy from Lebanon.   Like they say, it’s a small world, and I think it’s getting smaller.