And I'm back

Jesus once said one should forgive one's enemies 7 x 77 times. That metaphorical sum is the literal number of times I have mentally chastised myself for not being more regular in updating my blog. So to stop it rising to 777 times, I shall endeavour to post today, now I'm ensconced back in the UK with free time and internet.
Becoming distinctly old news now, but I shall continue with my Beijing times. If there is to be a next time, I'm either going to take someone fluent in Chinese or come a lot more prepared instead of just on a wing and a prayer. Not too many Chinese on the street speak much in the way of English (unless they're art students trying to flog you their wares) and why should they need to when Mandarin is set to be the language of the internet in ten years, a useful marker for the future need to be conversant in Chinese.
Mind you, such power is through unsustainable growth. Though the ground air is deceptively clear, Beijing's haze is fearsome yet fitting for one of the ten most polluted cities in the world. On some days it was impossible to see the horizon as buildings retreated into the smog.
The hotel itself was run by Mongolians, probably from Inner Mongolia controlled by the People's Republic, since Altaa was the one who booked the hotel, but English still didn't abound, which could have the made the place cheaper since it was less likely to be used by westerners with fat wallets and waistlines. The location was also good. Until Altaa arrived (and even after she did), working out the electronics in the hotel room was trial-and-error. On the first night, to avoid going to sleep with the fall of sunset, I pulled up a stool and read by the light of the bathroom, shining out into the short frameless corridor connecting the bedroom proper with the front door. For a while, warm water in the bathroom was issued by the mixer tap as the lukest of lukewarm (as opposed to the alternative of ice cold). However, it all added to the curious charm of things not going quite as one expected.