One of the things I found when residing in London was that there was a great wealth of things to write about and yet, having nothing but a change of clothes, no means of writing it. Now, armed with my PowerBook, I find myself in China and, in one morning, have had a wealth of experiences greater than those in a whole summer in London—the only thing lacking now is the time to write it all down. Breakfast is in 10 minutes, which leaves me not nearly enough time to comment on the most fantastic view out of the window; the younger locals cycling to work, the slightly older performing their tai-chi in the grounds of the hotel—all appearing as if slightly out of focus as a result of the incredible heat haze. The temptation to join the locals at tai-chi tomorrow is offset only by my complete and utter incompetence in that area.

Dinner last night, including a sizable tip, cost a whole 250 Yuan per person which (approximately £2) and filled us full of a wide range of no less but 7 different, 4 2 litre bottles of Chinese beer and a serving of rice each. It helps to give some idea of the difference of wealth between us Westerners and the locals when you realize that the hotel has prices similar to those at home.