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.