Memoirs of Lloyd Moss: 1928
In a few days we were steaming up the Whangpoo River to Shanghai where we very quickly took on supplies and went right away up to the Gulf of Liaotung and Chinwangtao once more. Happily we didn't stay there very long but proceeded down to Chefoo where an interesting transformation was just taking place. It seems that Chefoo had just fallen to a new military outfit. It was mostly done by the exchange of money - few lives were lost. Formerly the city had been ruled by the Nationalist soldiers and most of the shops and public buildings were painted bright blue. But the new general named Wu Pi Foo, I think, liked brown. It was so funny the first day I went ashore to see the people all up and down the main street very busily painting over the blue with a rich chocolate brown, using sticks wrapped with rags instead of brushes. I cam to like Chefoo very much. It seemed like quite an orderly place for China, having been administered by the Germans for many years before World War I. There was one super German restaurant and foreign food store left called "Fritz's". It was known all over the China coast for its wonderful food and drink and was still run by Fritz and his family, at #127 Tung Ma Lou, Chefoo, Shantung Province. A dinner there went on and on for many courses with a different beverage for every course and ended with a chestnut layer cake with which I have never found anything to compare. There was a notice painted on the wall that read:
Since Friend to Friend is so unjust,
I really don't know who to trust
I have trusted many to my sorrow
So pay today - I will trust tomorrow.
Chefoo had no roads leading into it because what did not front on the sea was enclosed by a steep mountain range. However there was one trail that wound up and through a very narrow high pass. I used to rent a Manchurian pony and ride up into the region and it was like going back to Biblical days to sit up there and see the men and pack animals toiling up that stony trail and squeezing through between the rock walls at the top. One of the many things on the animals backs were what looked like big round grindstones, but were in reality pressed soybean cakes. One day I followed a little path along the side of the mountain and came upon a spot that I have always thought of since as Shangri-la. It was a perfectly sheltered spot between two ridges just under the wind and facing south. There were springs and little running streams about. Remember all the rest of the mountain was stony and nearly barren. There were several little stone farmhouses surrounded by fruit trees and gardens, children were playing around it and it was a scene of utmost peace. I didn't stay long because I couldn't bear to disturb anything. But before I left a fine looking old Chinese grandfather came over and handed me a lovely big ripe peach. It is just one of the happenings that I can never forget.