Anyway, despite the length of delay they made up some time and Steve (who runs the Doubletree Hilton in Shenyang) had told me I would be met at the airport. Not surprisingly, as we emerged I was looking for a Chinese driver with a board with my name on it. I didn’t see one and as I came out from the arrivals barrier I said to Joan behind me, follow me. From behind me I heard Steve say why would she do that? Apparently I had looked straight at him but not registered - after all, I was expecting him to still be at work!

As always, his apartment in the hotel is sumptuous (I think Joan’s jaw literally dropped when we went in) and also as always he has filled his fridge with beer on my account. We had a lovely buffet meal that night in the hotel followed by a catch up in the apartment over a couple of bottles of red.

The following day (Friday) we were left to our own devices, Steve having work during the day and a business meal in the evening. He joined us at breakfast and the next time we saw him was late at night. Joan wants to learn to swim so Steve arranged for her to have lessons on Saturday and Sunday mornings but of course we needed to buy her a swimsuit. It was fortuitous that the hotel is adjacent to the largest indoor market in northern China! Indeed if you believe Wikipedia it is the largest of its kind in Asia, although I was under the impression that accolade went to Wuhu.

As we entered the building we needed I was stunned by the cacophony of noise, coming mainly from the thousands of traders running stalls. I was astonished at the sheer number of shoes, slippers and sandals which stretched as far as the eye could see. I also needed to buy a pair of trousers because I had omitted to pack a spare pair. Enquiries as to where to  get them saw us directed to the “fat people” stall. I did though get a nice, reasonably priced, lightweight pair. I also found shirts that actually fitted and so bought a couple and now regret not buying another couple.

Joan got a swimming costume but never tried it on when we got back, instead doing so in the evening. Although it was the smallest size, to put it delicately had she gone swimming in it her upper bits would have been on display. This irked me because in order to rectify it we had to get up early on Saturday to go back. The solution was a matching swimming bra which was provided gratis and she had her lesson on time.

In the evening we went to Casey’s Diner. Steve had recommended there and Heidi’s Swiss restaurant. He had stated that I would know Casey once I saw him and he wasn’t wrong! A broth of a boy to say the least and I did in fact say to him that he would be a big boy when he grew up - he made two of me! I’ll lay odds there are never any fights in that place.

Anyway, I think his success comes not only from the quality of his food (which is excellent) but also his charisma and easy charm. Within three minutes of chatting with him you feel you have known him all your life. A real larger than life character in every sense. When he left us to talk to some regulars Joan asked how many years I had known him and was completely thrown when I said I hadn’t met him before in my life.

Joan went for lasagne (due to being around my cooking, unlike most Chinese she now has a liking for pasta and cheese - I will Anglify her completely yet!) and I opted for the smallest pizza. Both were good but I only finished half of mine, the rest came home with us in a box.

On Saturday we indeed went to the market while Steve was out on one of his lunatic 60 mile rides, the arrangement being a text to say when and where to meet for lunch. Sod’s law stated it was going to be Casey’s but that was hardly a trauma. “Lunch” was at four!

Casey’s signature dish is the burger. Proper burgers. A visit to Shenyang is not authentic until you have one, so I found the smallest burger on the menu. We met two of his cycling buddies (Shona and Lenz, she from Taiwan, he from Germany - and yes I couldn‘t resist mentioning the war and he took it in very good spirit!) and the beer flowed outside in the beer garden. God in heaven, I only managed half the burger. There is a house challenge called the Warrior Burger, contestants/gluttons are allowed 12 minutes to eat the entire meal without going to the loo and it is free. It would take me 12 days to finish it let alone minutes, yet amazingly about ten people are on the leader board as having completed the gargantuan task. Hard to believe I know but very recently someone called Don became the top of the table by a country mile, finishing in 5 minutes 23 seconds! Sadly I never got to meet this chap but my mind’s eye tells me he is probably of very slight build and one you would least expect. I am sure Steve will correct me if my guess is wrong.  Obviously with lunch that late there was never going to be dinner, so it was back to the presidential suite for beers and wines.

I would dearly have loved to go down for breakfast over the weekend but with the promise of a heavy lunch it was compromised. Instead we went to Heidi’s just after noon and again sat outside with the Three Stooges. Shona and Lenz are quite obviously still very much in love even after 21 years of marriage, so much so that Steve and I needed airsick bags at times! It beats sitting in the company of a warring couple though! Those three had the biggest veal cordon bleu I have ever seen (and finished them!) while Joan and I shared a Swiss cheese fondue with potatoes, salad and ham which was simply sublime even though I am sure I detected cheddar in it.

There was also the spectacle of the power walkers. There was a park opposite and around the park on the path, dozens of people of all ages were aimlessly walking fast in single file around the perimeter. Dozens of times. They probably do a hundred circuits before bedtime and God help anyone who actually wants to use the pavement to get from A to B. They also need their heads testing.

Then the super typhoon hit. Hail and rain and a quick scuttle inside until it was over. Back outside, we were going to leave and I suggested one more drink for gutter. That was our undoing.

A girl had been in, tying balloons into shapes (flowers, guitars, pistols etc) and then Armageddon hit us. The name of Armageddon was a Philippino named Elmer. He is the resident guitarist and singer. Steve told me it was not uncommon for more people to be on the road listening than there were in the establishment and I can well believe that. He is simply incredible. I found myself wishing my brother Adam was there because he could have sang along too. I decided to test Elmer by asking him to do Wonderful World and it must be said (and I told him so) it was the best rendition I have ever heard by anyone who wasn’t actually Louis Armstrong. I tested him further by asking for I Started A Joke and beggar me didn’t he pull that off too. I swear we would have been there until the wee hours had ominous black clouds not forced him to unplug all the electrics and retreat inside. An impromptu but rip-roaring session, completely unexpected but definitely the highlight of the entire holiday. It was also an occasion where the general manager of a prestigious international 5 star hotel chain could be observed with balloons around his head making him resemble quite literally a d***head and playing a balloon guitar (see embarrassing photos).