Back again. I barely got home before I flew out again. This time to Beijing. The experience borders the surreal. Everything is the same, and yet I feel as if nothing should be. The airport is just as I last saw it; the experience at immigration, the little shuttle train, waiting for a taxi: all the same. I feel nothing but flatness.
For a show of friendliness, I had booked into the same hotel as my colleague. But the hotel cancelled my booking and said they had no rooms. So I returned to my usual place in Wangfujing, pitching up near midnight. Again, the hotel I had stayed in so many times before was just as it always was, right down to the smell in the lobby.
Nothing seems to change.