THE ADVOCATE 193
VOL. 76 PART 2 MARCH 2018
in Hawaii on the way home and therefore had a more enticing argument
than the rest of us. Cathy was a highly skilled criminal lawyer who later
became a trial court judge and a justice of appeal. In China, she was kind
and mirthful, but guarded in an inoffensive way. At home, on the bench,
she was level-headed and gently no-nonsense. Although I haven’t been able
to turn it up, I know I have a photograph of Cathy standing on a bed in one
of our hotels, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a large, unfurled
Chinese flag in the other.
I wonder what reports Fan sent in about us.
We ate well everywhere in China. Every meal was a mini-banquet. We
also drank a lot of tea. At all the pre- and post-event briefings and debriefings,
our guides offered us Chinese tea served in delicately painted
cups with lids. The lids were essential because most of the rooms in which
we gathered were icy cold. We never thought of removing our coats. I had
not packed properly for China’s northern climate, so, somewhere, perhaps
in Nanking, I visited the local Nordstrom and, for a ridiculously few renminbi,
bought an almost ankle-length, heavily padded Chinese coat with a
matching hat. At once I was the envy of my colleagues.
Some of us did tire of the food by the end of our two weeks. Partly for that
reason, in Tokyo, where we stopped briefly en route home, three or four of
us chose a big steak dinner over a train trip to Mt. Fuji. Staying to dine in
Tokyo gave me time to see Frank Lloyd Wright’s Imperial Hotel and one of
Tokyo’s ballparks and ensured that our rump group would get to a Bob
Dylan concert. I do remember the concert (no “Lay Lady Lay”), but I don’t
remember the steak, except for the price, which was an incredibly steep
$50. The asparagus that accompanied it was the best I’ve ever eaten.
We drank a lot of Tsingtao beer in China. I don’t think beer was served at
breakfast but it was certainly served at every lunch and dinner. Our glasses
were endlessly replenished. But readers who are jumping to conclude
there’s a connection between anyone’s imbibition of too much beer and
Doug Lambert’s long walk down the hotel corridor will be disappointed. It
At Alf Eddy’s request, I was the “official” China trip photographer. I still
have my four trays of China slides, minus the Ryan photo, stacked in a
closet. Alf took a set for the CBA. The images are a rare record of China near
the end of a long period of isolation.
One of my favourites of the China photographs is a portrait of two boys,
aged about five and eight, who are waiting next to a post outside the bus or
train station in Peking. They must be brothers. Beside them are two stuffed
green canvas bags on which Chinese characters have been painted. Each