Visions of China: Blurred Visions of China

Monday morning is hereby cancelled by order of hangover.

We struggled down to the restaurant for lunch, thought a laksa might bring me to life but hotel version not the greatest. Back upstairs for a nap and a massage: I got the wonderful gentle one, L got tortured.

Boarded a metro train to the next stop, a weird busy mix of shopping and food. We headed for a hot pot restaurant, a place where everyone sits around big pots of boiling soup, plonking skewer after skewer in, eating lots and lots. Chicken, pork, vegetables, tripe, tofu, eggs, pigs blood, sheep brains. The 10 of us had two pots, one full of chillis (not that spicy really, but this was compensated by the bowls of chilli oil we then dipped everything into before eating). We ate and ate, some of us way past the point of full. The end result, 703 sticks worth.

I’m been remiss in not mentioning R and D up to now, two of L2’s friends who’ve been helping things along, directing the wedding, and generally being fabulous. Following a wnderfully heartfelt toast by R, he refused to let us pay for dinner. We’ve promised him lots of food and seafood when he makes it to Australia.

L wasn’t feeling the greatest, so D scored us a taxi who sped us home, taking great care with us. Due to some weird phone ordering system, D paid for this, too.

So it was early night for our morning flights on Tuesday, which almost brings me to now.