Can’t sleep. But that’s fine – its Thanksgiving tomorrow and I don’t have to work.
I’ve gone almost three decades without giving a hoot about this American holiday but this year I will like to give it a hug (if it’s actually huggable).
[By the way, turkey is a Thanksgiving dish, not Christmas. But if you ask me, we should eat whatever we like, whenever we like. So, go forth and gobble.]
What I’m trying to say is, I can sleep in tomorrow. I am giving thanks for that at least.
I got back from a bitingly cold Beijing last night, feeling glad that I’ve gone although I really should have saved that money for the proverbial rainy day. But you know, prudence really isn’t my strong suit. Besides, money is the most common thing in the world! (I love this Roald Dahl quote; it allows me to be generous with myself.)
So, the verdict is out: I like the city – despite it’s throngs of people, excessive policing and bad customer service.
Because there is also the thrillingly palpable history, wonderful street food and surprisingly impressive and incredible cheap public transport.
Of everything that it is, two stood out for me: the excess and grandeur of its imperial past and the strange longevity of its modern ideology. It is a mish-mash of the old and new and it is confusing and fascinating at the same time.
And that’s how cities should be – they should puzzle you a little.