Shanghai Stories - Epilogue

I am writing this from the relative comfort (and near tropical warmth) of Digby Crescent. The journey back was very, very long and rather odd - but we made it. Thinking back to my last post, I wrote to you in the midst of Monday night's Mojito madness... a delightful affair, where booze can be drunk for mere pennies and we got a street kebab for 36p afterwards.

A moment on the street kebabs, if you will indulge me. The purveyors of the kebab stalls stand by their griddles, which they wheel about the city, and laid out in front of their fiery grills are displays of tofu, mushrooms, meat, fish and veg - all on separate sticks. You pick out as many stick's as you like, any combination, and he cooks them in front of you and hands the sticks over. You eat them. Each stick is around 10p and is massive. I chose tofu, green beans and aubergines fricking lovely!

On Tuesday and Wednesday, Ricky and I mainly did last minute sightseeing and packing - we also went on present buying duty - which involved a trip to a massive supermarket, buying up all of the toot I could! Today I laid out my toot on the kitchen table - very satisfied. Managed to get a lot of 'Pleasant Goat' merchandise, not difficult, as China is absolutely saturated by this dubious cartoon goat, whose grinning, sinister face greets me at practically every turn... Much New Year decorations were bought home too - remember, it will be the year of the rabbit! So put something rabbity up for good luck.

The journey home began ominously. Having decided to take everyone's advice and try to relax a bit more when it comes to travelling, I did not push, as I usually do, to get to the airport a bit earlier than needed. I say a bit earlier, what I mean is, if you need to get there two hours before check-in, why not make it three, or even four? Better to be safe than sorry I say. Oh yes.

Anyway, mentalism and anxiety disorders aside, we didn't go for the expensive option of taxi to Pudong airport, but decided on the tube instead. Unfortunately, the tube stops running at 9pm. Not the whole network of tubes - just the one that takes you to Pudong airport. Having gone 10 stops before reaching the end of the service (approximately 30km) from the airport, we were chucked out, into the cold - at the mercy of more illegal taxi touts than I have ever seen in one place in my life. Including Sainsbury's car park on a Saturday afternoon.

Without exaggeration - this was rather scary. People started grabbing at our luggage and trying to load it into their cars. A swarm of poor buggers fighting over us, and the other sad gits who were also chucked off the tube on their way to the airport, ran from group to group attempting to undercut the person in front of them. We only had 50 yuan on us (fiver) and there were no banks. Also we were loathe to get out more money for a charge in a currency that we wouldn't need again. As soon as we mentioned our 50 yuan the crowd began laughing. A bit like a nightmare, where you realise that you're naked from the waist down meeting your in-laws for the first time, or that you can't recite the five times table. After the laughter came the outrage - then the spitting. Oh the spitting. Not at us you understand, just in general. Never had China seemed so hostile.

We hailed the only legitimate taxi we saw and got in. Letting it take us to the airport, we watched the meter creep towards 50 with dread. When it passed 50, and indeed, carried on to over 100, we started to panic a bit. On arrival, we begged the bemused then angry driver to wait for us to get cash. He kept me, and our luggage as collateral. Rick got back, with more money and we gave him a fat tip, so he drove off happy I think.

We joined the a big queue for the first leg of our flight to Doha, Qatar, thanking our lucky stars that we had made it in time. The first flight was good - my genuine joy that we had made the flight, coupled with exhaustion, meant that I cared little during takeoff or indeed, during the flight and hardly batted an eyelid during turbulence over nearly all of Pakistan. In fact, I became quite keen on the in flight tool that lets you see the route of the plane and where it is in real time... felt really privileged and odd to be travelling over half of the world.

When we got to Doha, even though we didn't leave the airport, it felt like a different world. For a start, China is FREEZING. Doha is bloody boiling. Also, there are hardly any women anywhere. If you do see a female, she is swathed from head to toe in a burkha. All of the men scowled at me to show their disapproval and some of them openly made comments on my hair and appearance in general. Rich, tanned, tourists wearing all of the priciest labels shared our second flight from dusty Doha.

I watched the Karate Kid, and felt rather content. Getting back to Gatwick, back to the grey and the comforting rain, I had missed it a little I must admit.

Now I'm back, and looking forward to seeing you all. I hope you will like my new hair, styled over a 5-hour period by four anxious hairdressers, who clearly didn't not relish the challenge of doing something with my waist-length frizzy bleached birds nest of hair. It really doesn't look much different, except the colour and that they cut off quite a bit more than I thought they would. I basically look a bit like Lady Gaga's mental auntie. Or something.

Anyway, that's enough for now. Until we next meet, adieu and thanks for reading!