Riding School:

    You can start horse—riding at any age. Choose private or group lessons any weekday between 9:00 a.m. and 8:30 p.m.(3:30 p.m. on Saturdays). There are 10 kilometers of tracks and paths for leisurely rides across farmland and open country. You will need a riding hat.

    Opening Hours: Monday through Friday: 9:00 a.m.—8:30 p.m.

    Phone: (412)396—6754  Fax:（412）396—6752

    Sailing Club:

    Our Young Sailor's Course leads to the Stage 1 Sailing qualification. You'll learn how to sail safely and the course also covers sailing theory and first aid. Have fun with other course member, afterwards in the clubroom. There are 10 weekly two-hour lessons(Tuesdays 6:00 p.m.—8:00 p.m.).

    Opening Hours: Tuesdays: 6:00 p. m.—8:00 p.m.

    Phone: (412)396—6644 Fax: (412)396—6644

    Diving Centre:

    Our experienced instructors offer one-month courses in deep-sea diving for beginners. There are two evening lessons a week, in which you learn to breathe underwater and use the equipment safely. You only need swimming suits and a towel. Reduced rates for couples.

    Opening Hours: Monday and Friday: 6:30 p.m.—8:30 p m.

    It is made from grapes grown without pesticides (杀虫剂) and chemicals, is kind to the environment and rarely causes hangovers (宿醉). Sales of organic(有机的) wine are booming in the UK.

    According to the organic food and farming group Soil Association, sales of organic beers, wines and spirits rose by 14.3% last year to reach nearly ￡6 million, driven by the demand from consumers who are increasingly seeking “natural” food.

    “It seems that people are rediscovering their link with the environment through organic food. Organic wines also taste better, perhaps due to less use of man-made chemicals.” said Finn Cottle of Soil Association. As well as the benefits of producing grapes without using pesticides, organic wine also contains less sulphur dioxide (二氧化硫), which can contribute towards hangovers.

    Supermarkets are increasing supplies on their shelves to meet consumer demand, while the switch to online shopping has also helped, as people are more easily able to find what they are looking for. Vintage Roots is now one of the UK's biggest online shops of organic wine, while Ocado provides more than 100 different organic wines and Daylesford, best-known for its organic vegetable boxes, has branched out into organic wine and spirits.

    The discount supermarket Aldi is set to start its first collection of so-called “green” wines this week, offering eight wines with organic certificates. Aldi expects the wines to appeal to the young shoppers who are increasingly concerned about the environmental influence of the produce that they are buying and consuming.

    English organic wine producer Oxney Estate's Noir Rosé recently won the Waitrose prize for the most outstanding rosé wine at the competition. A spokeswoman for Waitrose said:“Organic wine is a growing trend globally and we have seen sales increase by 16% in the last year”.

    The ocean bottom, a region nearly 2.5 times greater than the total land area of the earth, is even today largely unexplored. Until about a century ago, the deep ocean floor was completely inaccessible and hidden beneath waters averaging over 3,600 meters deep. Totally without light and in the case of intense pressures hundreds of times greater than at the earth's surface, the deep-ocean bottom is a strange environment to humans, in some way, as fighting and remote as the outer space.

Although researchers have taken samples of deep-ocean rocks for over a century, the first detailed global study of the ocean bottom did not actually start until 1969, with the beginning of the National Science Foundation's Deep Sea Drilling Project(DSDP). Using techniques first developed for the offshore oil and gas industry, the DSDP's drill ship, the Glomar Challenger, was able to maintain a steady position on the ocean's surface and drill very deep waters, taking samples of rocks from the ocean floor.

    The Glomar Challenger completed 96 voyages in a 15-year research program that ended in November 1983. During this time, it sailed 600,000 kilometers and took almost 20,000 samples of rocks around the world. Those samples have allowed geologists to reconstruct what the planet looked like hundreds of millions of years ago and to make out what it will probably look like millions of years in the future. Today, largely on the strength of evidence gathered during the Glomar Challenger's voyages, nearly all earth scientists agree on the theories of plate tectonics (构造学) and continental drift that explain many of the geological processes.

    The sample of rocks drilled by the Glomar Challenger has also provided a climatic record stretching back hundreds of millions of years. The information of past climatic change can be used to predict the future climate.

    Until the 1990s coffee was rarely served in China except at luxury hotels aimed at foreigners. When Starbucks opened its first shop there in 1999, it was far from clear that the country's tea-drinkers would take to such a different and usually more costly source of caffeine. Starbucks tried to attract customers to coffee's bitter taste by promoting milk and sugar-heavy concoctions(调和) such as Frappuccinos.

    But coffee has become fashionable among the middle class in China. Starbucks now has about 3, 800 shops in China more than in any other country outside America. Statista, a business-intelligence portal(门户网站), says the roast coffee market in China is growing by more than10 %year. Starbucks and its rivals see big opportunities for expanding there.

    So too, however, do home-grown competitors. A major new presence is Luckin Coffee, Beijing- based chain. Since its founding less than two years ago, it has opened more than 2,300 shops. On May 17th Luckin's initial public offering on the Nasdaq stockmarket raised more than $570m, giving it a value of about $4bn.

    Luckin's remarkable growth is sign of change. No longer do Chinese consumers see coffee as such a luxury. Most of Luckin's shops are merely kiosks where busy white-collar workers pick up their drinks, having ordered them online. Super-fast delivery can also be arranged through the company's app. Independent coffee shops are springing up. The growth is striking considering the country's reputation for its tea-drinking culture where many residents like to relax in teahouses sipping tea served gracefully.

    But the two markets are different. The teahouses tend to cater to older people who like to spend long hours playing mahjong and gossiping. At the coffee shops it is rare to see anyone over 40. Young people use them for socialising, but much of their interaction is online -sharing photos of their drinks and of the coffee-making equipment. An option on the Chinese rating app Dianping allows users to search for wanghong ("internet viral") coffee houses.

    Today the Nobel Prize in Literature awarded journalist Svetlana Alexievich approximately $970,000 in recognition of a lifetime of excellence. The 67-year-old author of Voices From Chernobyl and War's Unwomanly Face was praised by the Swedish Academy "for her polyphonic(复调式的) writings, a monument to suffering and courage in our time."

    Prizes like the Nobel inspire much expectations before the announcement. People give their best guesses as to who will win, look back on past winners, and even place bets as if spectators at a Derby(赛马会).

    Literary prizes reward artistic brilliance. They help writers earn a decent living. But is the public's fascination with prize-winning authors healthy? Our impulse seems to increasingly contribute to a culture of turning authors into celebrities, where readers follow the author instead of the book.

    A story should stand on its own, as a considered, complete book, without biographical information from author. It's an idea perhaps best conveyed in Roland Barthes's 1968 essay The Death of the Author. "The image of literature to be found in contemporary culture is arbitrarily centered on the author, his person, his history, his tastes, his passions."

    Nearly 50 years later, a few still agree. "I believe that books, once they are written, have no need of their authors," New York Times bestselling author Elena Ferrante once wrote. "If books have something to say, they will sooner or later find readers; if not, they won't, "she continued. "True miracles are the ones whose makers will never be known."

    ①But the rules for submission for the Man Booker International Prize, for example, strongly encourage authors to "make themselves available for publicity". And the foundation behind the National Book Award requires finalists to participate in their "website-related publicity".

    ② In 2007, a reporter who showed up uninvited at Doris Lessing's house was the first to inform her that she had been awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature. Today the Twitterati came knocking on Alexievich's digital door hour before the award was even official. To be considered for a prize is to be a public figure.

    ③ Harry Potter series author J. K. Rowling, with over 5.6 million Twitter followers, has actively addressed readers through public appearances and social media, revealing much more than we could have imagined when we closed the final Harry Potter book. We now know the house Harry's children will be sorted into, that Dumbledore is gay," Voldemort" is actually pronounced with a silent "t", and a whole host of the other minor and major details about the backstory of the characters.

    The magical world Rowling created in her books—a relatively tight mystery with well-laid clues that led to a satisfying conclusion, which had to prove their merits to the reader based on an internal logic—is being unraveled by her own hand.

    ④ Of course, public attention also has very important benefits for authors. For three months after receiving the 2011 Pulitzer Prize in fiction, Jennifer Egan's A Visit from the Goon Squad sold about triple its print sales from before the prize, Publishers Weekly reports. On Oct. 5, 2010, in the first FT/Oppenheimer Funds Emerging Voices Awards, as Nigerian-born Chigozie Obioma accepted the prize for fiction with an easy smile, his excitement was appreciable. Given the cash prize of $40,000 for each winner, it's hard to downplay the importance of such an honor. Such awards bring necessary visibility and funding to writers facing a literary landscape dominated by white men.

    But our culture of celebrity is often too wrapped up in the way we read: How might the meaning of a work change if the author really didn't grow up in a poor neighborhood, or if he or she was abused in childhood? Readers studied the author's life as if it were the key to interpreting his or her novels.

    Behind our fascination is the question that drives all such questions: What did the author intend? By all means, let us praise brilliant work and in doing so trust that the author has already told us enough, and that the story he or she meant to tell ended with the final page.

For nearly two decades, a thin, sun-burnt postal worker could frequently be seen carrying packages along a dangcrous mountain trail in the Taihang Mountains.

The 10-kilometer-long route, which is between 20 centimeters and 1 meter wide, is known as the "cat road" by locals, meaning that it is so dangerous that only cats could walk on it. Whereas, Zhao Yuefang, a postal worker in Ewu township in Huguan county, Shanxi province, had to walk the route every day to deliver mail.

Every day at the crack of dawn, he would start his journey along the "cat road". From picking up the day's post to delivering it to villagers and returning along the same route, it took Zhao four days. During rainy and snowy seasons, the mountain road, part of which hugs the cliffs, would become slippery and dangerous. One day in the winter of 2003, the "cat road" was covered in thick snow and he slipped off the trail. Fortunately, he was able to stop his sharp descent by grabbing a tree branch and slowly managed to climb to safety.

By 2012, Zhao had walked more than 300,000 km and delivered over 800,000 pieces of mail. Born and raised in the deep mountains, Zhao truly understands the significance of mail deliveries to villagers. "They depend on the mail to keep in touch with the outside world," he said. "Their sheer joy written on their face while receiving any post struck me," he added.

In 2012, a 67-km-long tourist highway was built and gone were those days when Zhao risked his life to walk on the "cat road". But Zhao was even busier than before. "The number of packages I handle daily now exceeds the number I used to deal with in the past," said Zhao, adding that villagers are turning to online shopping and ordering more and more goods by post.