Browsing All Posts published on »March, 2012«

Warships, sand-dunes and koala cuddling

March 24, 2012


It has been a monstrously busy day. After breakfast at 11, I strolled through the gardens by the river, past the white ibis and the people swimming in the splendid pools with beautifully designed water fountains and jets in all directions. Leisure feels very enlightened in this city. At the end of the park was […]

From Beijing to Brisbane

March 23, 2012


I am still alive, and I’m in Brisbane, Australia! The world feels very un-Chinese. On my first night I went to a Vietnamese restaurant so I could practice a little Chinese with the restaurant staff, but they did not have the Beijing accent. The Beijing accent is very distinctive. I love speaking with my neighbour […]

The Journey Home

March 13, 2012


As I struggle to remain conscious in this blurry haze of death-inducing pollution, let me talk you through a typical journey home after work. These days, I try to leave the office before I am the last person, since I discovered that our office is haunted. We are on the 15th floor, as floors 13 […]

798 – Art: Darkness, Twitching Frogs and Nudity….

March 8, 2012


On my birthday I got a box of chocolates from the Beijing office, and I ate them for my dinner. The next morning I went to the trendy ex-factory 798 art district to take in some art on my day off. Being mid-week there were few day-trippers, but some gangs of funky looking youths with […]

Lucy Jordan

March 4, 2012


Why do Sundays feel the same everywhere in the end? Whether it’s people in blue Mao suits cycling their rusted trike-cart down a hutong, or a youth strolling down the Magdalen Road in Oxford with a bulldog. Sundays look the same everywhere. Perhaps it’s my eyes that haven’t changed. On this Sunday evening, my head […]

The Ancient Tea-Horse Trail

March 2, 2012


The seasons here swing like a slow pendulum from one extreme to another, pausing at the ends while they change direction. The passage of time is marked by the change from freezing to boiling and back again over a year. Each time it feels impossible to remember the other state of being. Time is also […]