AUTUMN

On returning to Baoding I decide to relax and ease myself into things as there is a little time before we start teaching. Sadly this is not altogether possible: there are many things wrong, no internet access in the apartments, and various administrative issues to deal with means that the new term is looking both uncertain and difficult. This of course is the wrong place to go into such things, but a cloud of gloom slowly descends over me as I begin to feel even lonelier than I did the first time I came. I miss Sarah more than ever and feel the pull of home very powerfully. I hope this will pass, as I cannot bear the thought of a year feeling like this. I get in touch with the various friends I made last year, but seem to meet with a lukewarm response: requests to meet up tend to be greeted with friendly, but firm assertions of limited availability owing to other commitments like family, home and work, at least from the Chinese, whilst my Western associates all seem to be ill!

I develop a routine of sitting in the huts near the campus for lunch and dinner, and going to the restaurants/shacks I am familiar with so I begin to exist on a diet of noodles and local hot-pot, not exactly the healthiest way to eat. My fridge freezer needs defrosting so I decide to run it down first: it contains some chicken, seafood and frozen milk, so I buy some vegetables and make a few dishes at home, like seafood paella, chicken curry, salad and simple Chinese dishes like noodles and egg, egg fried rice, omelettes and pancakes. I do have a little Marmite left so can make toast for breakfast. I also manage battered  calamari and a prawn curry with the spices Sarah sent.

I see my friends Seven and Christine for dinner after they get back from their holidays, about a week after I arrive. The internet problem drags on and I have to go into the University with my laptop PC to gain access. But not being able to speak to Sarah and my family on Skype is intolerable. I pester all and sundry about this, and of course I am not on my own. Among threats to leave for the UK and a raft of emails sent by various people the web access is finally restored something like three weeks after I arrive. By this time I have become somewhat desperate and what makes it worse is a series of assurances that it's been restored when it hasn't!

It is almost a relief when I start teaching again, the students are very pleasant and the planning/teaching is fairly straightforward. I teach some reading/writing/speaking/listening and create some lively and engaging lessons: at least they seem that way! We do need some new equipment so I ask some of my previous students from the last year to help me get some quotes. Additionally, I price up some canvas stretchers for the paintings I want to try and make. Eventually I order four frames, which can be made up for a price which is so cheap I doubt I could save any money if I built them myself! It certainly is easier than trying to get tools etc and taking the time to make them! This helps to ease the depression which sits on the edge of my consciousness all the time.

Unfortunately however,  I develop laryngitis and am unable to speak for several days. This means I can't go out and I have to teach without using my voice, which is a novel experience. I have to use the projector, blackboard and chalk, and mime to communicate with the students! It works however and I learn a bit about how to maintain their attention without using my voice: it comes in useful. Gradually it comes back as I go on antibiotics and drink gallons of water, plus hot lemon with honey.

There are new members of staff arriving and it will take time to get to know them. I don't like to rush this process, it's a mistake to do so in my experience. I take to cycling everywhere wherever possible, although I do have to buy a number of items from the supermarket which means a bus trip: actually I make two trips , the second one in a taxi as I need some bulky items including a new inflatable mattress as mine has burst the seams inside. This makes it slowly morph from a comfortable mattress into a giant sausage which is useless to lie on. I also get some new pillow cases, bin liners, fresh milk and some toiletries which are hard to find locally.

I have some pot plants which Iris has been looking after for me, once I get these back I decide to visit a garden centre by cycle where I get some bigger pots and earth as they have become pot-bound and will start to die otherwise. So I have half an hour in the kitchen re-potting these plants.

Someone tells me about an export supermarket nearby so I go and explore it. It sells some marvellously rare Western items like BBQ and tex-mex sauces, pasta sauce, whole brown crab,olive oil and Western-style baked beans! I buy a few items and treat myself to a dish of home-dressed crab and salad, plus beans on toast, making a mental note to stock upon other essentials! It's a bit expensive for China, but as it's imported food I am not surprised. Some good wine though although you can easily pay over £100 for a bottle! But you can get Spanish wine for a tenner.

In an attempt to escape the lethargy and boredom of being around the campus all the time I cycle out to Route 66, the American diner to the north-west of the campus, where I can eat some Western-style food. It's owned and run by a Chinese guy called Andrew Zhang who has spent some time in America and does good salads, ribs and wings, also some decent pizza and draught beer so I can relax a bit and enjoy the food. One evening I go out and come across a group of expat teachers who I am introduced to and have a good time talking to. I have a game of pool and afterwards develop an occasional routine of socialising there. I do find this a little difficult at times though: the more time you spend by yourself, the more difficult it is to be a social creature! I need an easy social routine and am sure it will come to pass eventually, but I gradually realise I will have to build this all over again from the beginning, which will take months and is hard work.

ARRIVAL IN CHINA

The flight leaves about 90 minutes late as one of the passengers is sick and has to be taken off the plane. Once it leaves, I have a last wistful look at the land of my heritage through the window. After a couple of hours we have dinner, which is lasagne, quite pleasant, with red wine: (as they have run out of the alternative to lasagne I get extra wine) then I settle down to watch a film (Chariots of Fire as I recall, one of my old favourites) It is somewhat cramped for a jumbo and as it's full I can't walk around and stretch my legs so they begin to ache after a while. A little boy fidgets next to me all the way there and I have to say a flight this long must be torture for kids! I try unsuccessfully to doze off. I'm a nervous flyer but the journey passes off successfully and smoothly. On arrival in Beijing I have to spend about 30 or 40 minutes getting through airport security. There are hundreds of people there so the security staff pass the foreigners through the Chinese gates to save time. I then pick up my bag (via the shuttle train) and pass through customs. I now know the subway system so it does not take long to get to my hotel, and after lunch check in to my room.  

It's a pleasant little courtyard hotel located in the hutong where I have some Chinese tea. I have a doze then go out for dinner with a friend as I am starving. I manage to call my family from Beijing that evening and to my surprise manage to sleep quite well. Although as I have been awake for 33 ½ hours perhaps that should not be surprising!

RETURNING TO CHINA

It's very hard to leave Sarah behind again. This time she takes me to Newark as the train to London is faster from there, and sees me off at the platform after asking at the gate. When the train pulls up I have time for one last hug before I have to board. I can see she is very unhappy so try to cheer her up with a quick call from the train, which doesn't quite work, so I suggest coffee and cakes might help! Sarah goes off shopping after the train sets off. On board my endlessly creative and reflective mind is already trying to adjust to the idea of life in China.

I arrive at King's Cross at about 11.30 and make my way to St Paul's, where I'm staying at the former Cathedral Choir School, now a YHA.   It's a beautiful building in a very attractive and quite cloistered area of London, right next to St Paul's Cathedral.

I arrange to store my luggage and make my way to the nearest pub for a pint: it's a very quiet little pub until some 20 odd Italian ladies on a tour arrive wanting to use the loo! Some of them do have a drink so the landlord to my surprise acquiesces. This area is somewhat warren-like but very quiet, so in trying to decide what to have for lunch I wander around for a while and find a pub that does fish and chips for £6.50 as a “Brexit Deal”, I'm tempted but they do not seem to offer mushy peas and the place is a bit unpleasant. 

I also visit “Ye olde Cheshire Cheese”, famous as Dr Johnson's old watering hole and a beautiful old pub in it's own right: there can't be many like this left in England. It has it all: old oak panels, rafters, candles, cellars turned into underground bars, and jars to drink out of. 

As I'm trying not to drink too much I have half a pint of beer which is a very good one, I think Doom Bar, then walk back to St Pauls. There is a fish and chip shop which looks very inviting: Sarah thinks London fish and chips is very poor but I have to say they are catching up fast with mushy peas now on the menu and generous portions of fresh fish! In the end however I settle for sushi as I fancy a light lunch.

Afterwards I have a little time to myself so I walk across the famous Millennium Bridge also known as the “wibbly-wobbly bridge” on account of it sways in the wind somewhat, to Tate Modern where I walk around a few quite uninspiring shows apart from Joseph Beuys who is one of my favourite artists. There are many buskers around, music students I guess, living statues and dancers. I stay about an hour and decide I need a rest.

Following this I make my way back to the hostel and check in to my room, collect my bags and make myself at home. It is very warm and stuffy as the weather is hot and there is no breeze so even with the window open it's uncomfortable. I have a shower and settle down to read for a bit, then try and doze off without much success. Finally I change and walk out for the evening. This takes me out for fish and chips at a quiet pub (with mushy peas) and to the Cheshire Cheese, where I have a couple of beers and get chatting to someone who lives nearby, mostly about politics and Brexit, before taking the time to call Sarah so she knows I'm OK.

Later that evening the pubs seem to close early so I go back and sleep. Although it's uncomfortably hot I do manage to get enough sleep. Nearby there is a small but attractive Indian restaurant and also a Chinese one where I see this picture in the window!

I can never do this journey all in one go. I remember the Chinese saying that says a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step: nothing could be truer in this case, as I thought when I left the house. The next day I have to transfer to YHA Thameside, so I have breakfast and arrange to store my bags again. At each stage of the journey I become anxious so try not to think of the bigger picture. Amongst my thoughts is the fear of a terrorist attack of which more later. I find myself looking around me for suspicious behaviour. I also have to renew my travel insurance while at the YHA as I have not had time to do it before, so I hurriedly do it on one of their PCs in the lounge at Reception. YHA breakfasts are great if you have a big appetite but I never do in the morning so I don't eat much, just cereal, beans on toast, orange juice and coffee. I decide to walk along the Thames to Tate Britain (as it's free) and the weather slowly develops into a lowering sky with a threat of rain. I don't mind as it will cool the air however guess who has come out with no raincoat or umbrella!

After I come out of Tate Britain the heavens duly open and I find myself sheltering under a tree for a few minutes until the rain becomes lighter and its OK to walk in. You can see the Shard, (now Britain's tallest building) looking ghostlike as it's shrouded in low cloud!

I get closer to St Paul's as I walk through Trafalgar Square and along the Strand, only to find that as 12 o'clock arrives there are no pubs open! I begin to feel a bit strange as I need food and drink. It seems more and more odd and finding the Cheshire Cheese I imagine roast beef and Yorkshire Pudding: guess what, it's all boarded up. Great. I find a pub which is open and have half a pint, then decide to walk towards the river, which turns out to be a pointless exercise as there is nothing there but banks. I pass several pubs, not one of which is open. I realise it's a Bank Holiday but of all things to close you wouldn't expect the pub to be it! I give up and go back for sushi again.

Afterwards I fetch may bags and transfer on the Central Line via Bond Street as the Northern Line is closed due to repairs. On arriving at Thameside I check in to another hot room at the top and decide what to do with myself. I arrange a late check out and have a beer at a pub next to the hostel. That evening I change and visit the Prospect of Whitby again, unsure of what to have for dinner.

Here's my drawing again from last year so you can see how it compares!

Eventually after mellowing over a couple of pints of IPA I plump for a fish platter which is very good. I sit by the river for a while and relax while I contemplate life. 

It so happens that not far away there is a little wine bar so I pay a visit on my way back to the Underground. It's very pleasant if a bit pricey: I make a note to take Sarah there if she meets me in London next year.

The next morning at breakfast I feel utterly miserable and wish I did not have to go. I'm flying today and decide to go for a walk along the river. The riverside path is very quiet apart from a number of  (mostly female) joggers running along the path all Lycra-clad and carrying little bottles shaped like tyres. I'm so unhappy that I call Sarah and tell her how I feel. She is very kind as always and I do feel better for a chat. The good news is that after I get back to the hostel and do a bit of shopping the pub next door is open. I chat to the lady behind the bar and mention my fear of a bomb attack. She feels that people in London don't worry about it. Well since they live with it every day this makes me feel a lot better and my anxiety dies down somewhat. I call my father who thinks I am having a whale of a time, nothing could be further from the truth at the moment!

Finally it's time to leave. I check out at the hostel and set off with my luggage. There is a feeling of being “on my way” as I walk to the Tube station. I travel via Whitechapel station to Paddington and get the Heathrow Express. I am surprised at the smoothness with which this takes place as it is a Bank Holiday and Notting Hill Carnival is on: the lines are not too crowded and I actually manage to get a seat!

At the airport checking in is easy and not too busy. Within about 45 minutes I'm in the departure lounge looking for somewhere to eat. I settle for chilli at Wetherspoons and call Sarah and my parents one last time before boarding the BA 747 to Beijing.

NO PLACE LIKE HOME

One of the world’ s great clichés but it’s true, there really is no place like home. You don’t realise it until you’ve been away for a long time. I’ve found myself contemplating my own mortality in a way I never did before, and many times I reflect on some of the things I’ve read in the past, tales of travel to another land, another world. Oddly enough, my coming home has lent a context to my time in China, as if it doesn’t mean anything without a homecoming. Ordinary as England and Nottingham now seems, perhaps I have just exchanged one kind of ordinariness for another. Before I did it travel to this amazing land seemed a remarkable concept: now it seems totally ordinary.

I visit old friends and and family looking to the future because there is no place else to go. 

Sarah and I visit Castleton and Lincoln, walking along the hills in Derbyshire, and staying in the Cathedral grounds in Lincoln, It is  a good way to say goodbye or at least, see you next time!

I have been so happy to see my family and spend some quality time with them. Sometimes the idea of going on such a long journey seems deathlike, filled with goodbyes and feelings of leaving. I know this is a kind of metaphorical thinking, but it’s hard not to draw this parallel. 

Now I am saying goodbye to England again, but I have found a new way of looking at it: the vision of the visitor. I feel as if I were walking toward an abyss. The only healthy way to look forward is to take things one step at a time, as my wife Sarah says to me always: the wise woman.