Antique markets and warehouses featuring furniture dating from the late Qing dynasty abound in Guangdong, yet so to do unscrupulous dealers looking to make a fast buck on a fake. And if you're not an expert, how do you know if someone is trying to pull the wool over your eyes?

"If it seems too good to be true, it probably is," says Hong Kong gallery owner and antique expert Karin Weber. "You don't get anything in life for free."

Weber, who came to Hong Kong 13 years ago, has been running weekend trips to a wholesale warehouse in the scenic Dinghu Mountains, a 90 minute drive from Guangzhou, for the past six years.

She says it's the perfect way to get off the beaten track on the Chinese mainland and rifle through 40,000 square feet of ancient history, and maybe pick up some bargain furniture as well.

"Many people like the idea of a weekend away, everything arranged, with time to think, ask questions, no pressure to buy, and having someone on hand who gives good, honest advice," says Weber.

Just a few years ago, Weber says she was leading dozens of people to sift through the warehouses every few weeks.

But recent trips have been few and far between. Her last trip to Guangdong was February, just before the outbreak of SARS, and before that at the end of 2002, testimony to the way that shady dealers flogging fakes are taking their toll on the industry.

There were five of us that signed up for the trip; myself, Weber and an American couple, Melissa and Mike Kotelec and their one-year old daughter Mia.

The trip ran smoothly with pre-booking of the VIP lounge on the Hong Kong-Zhao Qing ferry and we spent the next four hours getting to know one another, talking about what we hope to see at the warehouses.

Mike and Melissa were on their way back to the United States after five years in Hong Kong. "I guess you could say this is our swansong purchase," Mike says. "I'm just hoping to see something different, something a bit more unique," says Melissa.

Qing Dynasty furniture really came into its own about 20 years ago as China started to open up. "Up until that time all that was coming out of China was classic Ming Dynasty furniture," says Weber, for which you needed deep pockets and good connections. "But suddenly China opened up and dealers were able to go into China and buy, and more importantly, export."

Many pieces from the Qing dynasty are made in the Ming style, with the clean cut lines favored by emperors from the mid 14th -17th centuries, but Weber warns that unlike authentic Ming furniture, country furniture will not appreciate in value with time. "Country style (or vernacular) furniture is affordable, beautiful, still considered antique, costs a fraction of real Ming furniture, but will certainly not be a great investment for the future," she warns.

The entrance to the port in Zhao Qing, the largest town in the vicinity of Dinghu, is marked by a narrow limestone gorge, a taste of the mountain scenery that has earned it the nickname "Little Guilin". Visitors have been coming to Zhao Qing for years, drawn in part by the limestone peaks as well the Dinghu mountain range, a designated United Nations area of special interest, which boasts the oldest temple in southern China.

It's about a 25-minute drive to the warehouse from the port and the road winds along part of a 20-km embankment dividing the great lakes. Reaching the Dinghu, a dirt path leads to the first warehouse, a 350-year old stone temple with eight or nine inter-connecting rooms that are stacked high with furniture.

There are day, and four-poster wedding beds, innately carved kitchen cabinets, Ming-style horseshoe chairs, mahjong tables and even some chests from Tibet. Scouts for the warehouse scour the countryside snapping up items or in some cases entire households from locals looking to make some fast cash or get rid of relatives' belongings.

A thick film of dust covers everything, none of the furniture is refinished and many of the pieces are chipped or broken. Imagining them cleaned up, repaired, varnished or lacquered and then back in a tiny flat is hard work, and due to the size of the warehouse, slightly overwhelming.

But Weber has the process down pat and suggests a walk around and jotting down the reference numbers of anything that catches our eye, which will then be brought out into the courtyard. It isn't long before a red lacquer Tibetan cabinet, a Ming-style trestle table, six or seven chairs of various designs, and desks stand about in the courtyard.

The furniture is first given a good wash down -- often exposing hidden colors -- then Weber gets to work. She discards one chair as it is riddled with woodworm and points out where part of a cabinet has been replaced with a newer wood. A long trestle table is flipped upside down and examined for unstable parts.

Weber offers a few helpful hints on how to spot a fake: "The Chinese built furniture so it could be taken apart and moved from one place to another. When you remove the door of a cabinet for example, look at the grooves. If they are very clean - alarm bells should go off. Also, look at the legs. If you have a chair and the legs are not worn, again alarms should go off."

Just when we are on the verge of making a decision, Weber whisks us off to warehouse number two. "You have to walk away" she says.

A five minute's drive and we're in a field, overlooked by the mountains. A huge shed is again packed to the rafters with furniture. Weber shows us a small cabinet that looks almost European in style.

"I love these hybrid pieces. They are just charming," she says, explaining that during the occupation of China, Europeans would have brought over their own furniture, but when that wore out would have taken them to the local craftsman to copy. Over time Chinese features would have been added, leading to a hybrid piece. "It's like buying a little piece of China's turbulent history."

We pass quickly up to the third-floor of a four-storey building that is packed with tea pots, old water buckets, baskets, stools and various containers that Weber says can make excellent plant pots or with a piece of glass on top, small tables. We spend the remainder of the day poking and peering about these eccentric trinkets and treasures.

The next day, it's back in the van for a second trip to the warehouse and a more detailed discussion about work that needs to be done on the selected pieces. "I never pressure anyone to buy anything," says Weber, "but it's best to talk about the work while the piece is fresh in your mind.

"If they like the item, it's reserved and I ask the warehouse to take it off the CD inventory, sent out to international dealers." If after a couple of days they are still interested, a 50% deposit is paid and the remainder when the refinishing work is done.

Prices quoted include shipping to Hong Kong but Weber says she can arrange transport to anywhere. It's an extra 12% for a cleanup or 25% for full restoration. "Clean up means the piece is made structurally sound, minor repairs are done, and the piece is cleaned with a final beeswax polish. For full restoration the old varnish is removed, the piece re-stained or re-lacquered (sometimes original wood is left exposed), and then a clean-up," Weber says.

Much too soon we're packing our bags and heading for the ferry terminal, trying our best to catch a last glimpse of the Dinghu mountains, satsified with the many purchases made, all packed up and set to be shipped soon.

To sign up for the trip phone or visit Karin Weber at her gallery.
Karin Weber Gallery
(852) 2544 5044
http://www.karinwebergallery.com/home/
The cost is HK$1900/per person inclusive of hotel room, although Weber offers a reduced price for those who want to meet her in Zao Qing

_Contact the antique enthusiast at _editor@cityweekend.com.cn