Chinese Whispers

Every afternoon, I have a cup of Oolong Chinese tea. It is a comfort thing, like a ritual I suppose?

Lately, Roger and I have been talking about going back up to China. He has established a company, dealing in steel grating products and an equivalent fibreglass product (with added extras such as; glow nose or extra grit support) called FRP. We are overdue for a visit to our suppliers and also its culturally appropriate and etiquette, to make acquaintances with your business partners, face to face.

Last time we went, I was separated for ten hours from Roger in Shanghai, missing my flight to Beijing. It was a travel nightmare and the story was published in the New Zealand Herald. I told another nightmare tale to work colleagues, in my previous life. Unfortunately, it became so distorted that I had to try and rectify it but at the end of the day, there will still be some people that think I had a foot massage, completely naked. The masseurs were not dressed, nor were most of the clients, which was culturally challenging. No-one spoke English and the hotel brochure had confused the spelling of sole and soul. After, many,” no, no, no’s,” and pointing to my feet, I received my foot massage. It was agony. I was convinced, as I winced my way back to the hotel room that I was in for fourth degree bruising, should there be such a thing? Remarkably, the next day, my legs were gloriously revitalised. I loved China, the gracious people, the humour, food and incredible sights, especially Peng Lai and the pagodas and The Great Wall.