the firework cancelling storm gone, the typhoon moved north dragging behind it the usual combination of heat and humidity this time with strong winds offering the hairdryer treatment. off to Dazhi with half an idea of cycling upstream towards Shillin and treating myself to a smoked plum shaved ice...and then i crossed the bridge, finding that cycling into the wind wasn't going to be any fun at all, out of the streets it had shown itself in all its howling bluster, persuading me that back down stream would be the way to go, that the shaved ice, even with eggroll as dessert, backwards menus sometimes working best, would be wasted upon the sweat bedraggled corpse that i would be on arrival...