Monday 29th July, 2013         1400

I am currently typing this with a view through a panoramic window on the 7th floor of the Hefei Hilton.

The UK holiday is over and whilst I enjoyed it (western food - although I never ate half the things I had planned - meeting family and friends again) I experienced something I never did when returning on leave from ships. I felt that I simply no longer belong there.

The journey home to China merely served to reinforce my aversion to flying. Of course, I know the days of me not setting a scanner off disappeared two years ago but you are required to remove belts, shoes - everything. This results in me having to hold on to my trousers because a) I wear them under the gut and b) Chinese trousers don’t have any waistband grippers. However we departed on time and touched down on time in Paris, where I had an hour before the Guangzhou flight departed.

Having been through stringent security at Heathrow and now being in transit I would have thought it should be a simple matter of presenting a boarding pass and embarking the plane. Oh no! We had to do it all again, meaning that the queues ahead of us now made the hour between flights seem highly inadequate. Even worse, I received marginally less attention to my person than that accorded me by the lovely lady who entertained me and who worked in the Key Club in Inchon thirty years ago. Three times I had to go through the scanner and twice I had the handheld gizmo plus pat down. The second one was, shall I say, extremely personal, prompting me to comment that I would much prefer a female to be carrying it out.

Of course this “VIP” treatment had not gone unnoticed by fellow travellers who - not unnaturally - were intrigued as to whether I would be carted off and eventually tried for crimes against humanity. Most of the audience were women. Matters were further compounded when the security chap instructed me to hold my hands away from my body. Remember - no grippers in the trousers. The inevitable happened as soon as he checked the waistband because they ended up below my knees. Thanking my foresight in donning a brand new pair of boxer shorts that morning, I simply cast a jaundiced eye over my female “admirers” (most of whom now had a hand raised to cover their mouths, either to hide a grin or in shock, I know not which) and said “Oh, the indignity of it!” Following this I was permitted to actually hang on to my trousers. Perhaps those imbecilic onesies aren’t so idiotic after all.

All this unnecessary rigmarole now meant that boarding had now closed for my flight. I don’t run any more and I was getting déjà vu. As I neared the boarding gate, bereft of any passengers, I was beckoned to hurry by an attendant. The flight despite being China Southern was Air France as part of Skyteam. My luck had changed for once and I was let in as the last one aboard. Annoyingly I hadn’t been allotted an aisle seat as requested but a window one, admittedly at the rear where the seats are two apiece. As it happens it wasn’t so bad, the other passenger in the aisle seat was Chinese and when the drinks trolley came out every time the attendants looked away he was pilfering whisky miniatures and the like. I nudged him and pointed to myself and, dashed decent chap he turned out to be, he filched enough bottles of wine that I never needed to ask for any more the rest of the flight.

Some hours later after managing a bit of sleep, I needed the loo. Both were occupied so I waited outside the port one. I waited so long a queue formed behind me with people indicating I should knock on the door. I suggested perhaps they should do it but there were no takers. After another five minutes and by now with a bladder that was calling for attention and absolutely no sound from the toilet, I did knock on the door. In three seconds flat the door flung open, a bespectacled female face glared daggers at me and promptly locked the door again.

The brief glimpse I got was enough to tell me she was wearing Air France cabin crew uniform and a minute later she emerged with her best angry schoolmistress face on. She looked at me and stated with venom that I had no right to knock on the door. Any thoughts I may have harboured to apologise and make out I was concerned she was ok evaporated and she was in turn informed I have the right to knock on any door on the planet, especially when someone is hogging the toilet and there is a queue. Off she flounced, thankfully she wasn’t catering in my section or I may have had to refuse the in-flight meals henceforth.

By the time we landed in Guangzhou we were only twenty minutes late but of course I had to claim my bag because this was the first point of entry into China. There was also immigration which took an hour - more reason not to travel. Once free and complete with baggage trolley, I wanted a smoke. The snuff had worked wonders on all flights despite some strange looks, but I really wanted a cigar so I went outside. Upon lighting up I noticed bus stops with information as to which hotels they served so decided to have a look to see if I could find mine.

Shortly I was approached by a most helpful chap asking where I wanted to go. I showed him my booking and he became even more helpful, showing me a printed card with taxi prices. It showed 300y to mine, but this fellow very kindly offered to do it for 250y. Then 200, then 150y. I told him the hotel ran a free shuttle bus and this was where it became quite fun because he loftily advised me that it was a holiday that day (Saturday). Oh really? Which holiday was it because there aren’t any this month? No no no - today is Saturday and none of the free buses work! Really. I will take my chance. How much WILL you pay? Bleep all.  I travelled for free on the bus which didn’t work Saturdays.

My cheap 180y hotel was fine for an overnight layover and a blessed relief as, despite higher temperatures than those in High Wycombe, my room was the coolest I had been in since leaving China. The only problem was that I turned in at eleven and woke up at 0230! My final flight to Hefei could not be expected to pass without incident and so it didn’t. The plane pushed back and then proceeded to wait on the tarmac for forty minutes. I must say my friend at the Hilton always does me proud, for as I entered the arrivals hall I spotted someone holding up my name and I was duly transported here in time for a Happy Panda buffet lunch at which I consumed all the oysters available among other fine foods.

I had wanted a nap but we chatted for so long it wasn’t worth it, instead we went for dinner as I faded slowly in the west. By ten I was done, showered and in bed. My night was fitful but every time I woke up I was determined to drop off again. I must have been successful because I finally rose at 1130!!!!

I am staying here tonight - the animals wouldn’t allow me to sleep that long - and will leave in the morning, getting back home in the early afternoon. Joanna has charged my bike so my first job will be to ride to town and liberate Pepsi, who probably thinks I have abandoned her.

Finally, here is a photo of my niece’s boyfriend’s dog I nicknamed Hooch. And yes, I did have to move a bit sharpish at one point to avoid the slobber from the violent jowl shaking.