Old Bookstore Street

I think I should describe my immediate surroundings, largely because it might say something about Wuhu more generally, but also because I have a bit of time to kill before my Chinese lesson:
As a foreign English teacher (I am now officially of that title; I have my own business cards!) I live in one part of the sixth floor of a high-rise building (that's a lot of steps to climb, every time). The other part of this floor contains Aston Language Centre's offices, a 'library' and about six classrooms, so I don't have very far to commute in the mornings.

Our building also contains offices and a hotel. Apparently, at the main entrance of the block, there is a sign advertising the cost of a two-hour stay at this hotel. Of course, I can't read the Chinese characters so the seediness passes me by, but I hear it is popular haunt of loved-up university students (they share rooms in tiny dormitories, where quiet, let alone privacy, is rarely attainable).

Aston is situated on Old Bookstore Street, imaginatively named after the bookstore that once stood here. Since those days, many other buildings have been built around the site but the book-selling continues. As you walk along this short street, therefore, it's often necessary to squeeze past the numerous shoppers who stand by the book stalls, perusing the pages of Chinese books (many of which I think are counterfeits) and eating snacks from a couple of nearby food stalls. These often include sausages on a stick (they cannot get enough of food on sticks here!), the smell of which emanates quite enticingly from the end of the street that brings you out near the main shopping area, Walking Street. Below is the view of the street from my room.

The books for sale lay on tables that stand with their proprietors under umbrellas or canvases. Everyday the booksellers, most of whom no longer exude youthful spriteliness, unload their books from old carts that have two wheels and can be pulled or attached to a bike (I think). At the end of the day, around six, the books are reloaded onto the carts and taken to an unknown location for the night. That's what happens outside this building, every single day. I must now go to my lesson.
PS. I have seen at least 10 people walking around in pajamas since I last blogged.
PPS. Below is a picture of the statue of the Chairman in Zheshan Park. Mao looks out on the lake overseeing the goings-on of the park.