In Beijing with Ye Qing

Qing is my guide for the day in Beijing and she says I'm crazy to take the train all the way to Tibet. Do I even know how big China is? The plane is cheaper and that hard sleeper could take four days!

I know, it's a long time to be on a train, but I need to dedicate time to my favourite hobby: staring out of the window. Qing says okay then and books me the ticket. "But it's just a bunk in a corridor," she says.

Earlier we'd been to the markets to buy a camera case, where she said she could haggle for me if I liked. Ah no, I'd said, I'm sure I'll manage fine. "Alright," she said. "Just start at 50 yuan and don't pay anything over 100 or it's a rip-off." The first seller we met offered me a fake Sony case for 250 yuan. Thank you very much, I'd said, immediately handing over the money as Qing laughed and shook her head.

We ended the day at a restaurant with her husband, Wong Chan, sharing three bowls of dumplings which I dipped in soya and vinegar.

"You know Chinese girls won't eat soy sauce?" Qing said, looking at my plate. "They worry it makes their skin darker."

"Oh really," I said, pouring another good bit into my dish. The grass is always greener, I thought.