Hooked on majong and tea houses; the gravel road to nowhere.

So the kids tell us there are all sorts of tea houses up here on this mountain where we can also play majong. We drive and drive, while they try to remember where they'd come before, both of them getting quieter and quieter as we go along making comments like, "I don't really remember this part." Finally, they tell the taxi driver to let us out. We don't see any structure at all, just a truck loaded with plants and four guys carrying a pallet of plants down into what looks like a nursery. They're singing in rhythm to their steps and it's beatifual and surreal at the same time. The kids, meanwhile, are "discussing" which way to proceed, favoring a long gravel road that appears to go nowwhere. They ask one of the nursery workers (Guy and I look, it is, indeed a nursery) if there is a tea house down the gravel road. He laughs and says yes.