Sunday April 1st

Birthday of fools and Lisas everywhere.
I get up late, go for lunch with Maria and eat a prodigious amount of food. Fried beef, fried pumpkin, rice, shredded potato, soup, and green tea from a wobbly teapot Maria insists we turn to face away from us.
"It's unlucky if the spout faces you."
"What about the people on the other table?"
"They can handle it."
Then we waddle to the nearby Laama temple, a Tibetan Buddhist temple. Apparently its presence demonstrates the Chinese government's tolerance and inclusiveness. After all if there is a Tibetan temple in Beijing, Tibet must be Chinese. Or so this theory goes.
I collect my stuff before catching the train to Shanghai to get my passport back. I thank Maria and Raphaela for all their kindness.
"What will you do after you go back to Shanghai?"
"I'm going to come back to Beijing for a while, I feel like there's still a lot to see."
"Where will you stay?"
"Just a hostel probably."
"You can't stay in a hostel, come back here."
"That's very kind, but I feel like I'm getting in the way of your work. I mean, I'm sleeping in your office."
"I insist."
Maria insists, and I have somewhere to stay in Beijing when I come back. I'm amazed by how generous she and Raphaela have been with their house and their time.

I make it to the station with at least two minutes to spare and get on the train back to Shanghai. My compartment holds the usual assortment of three bewildered Chinese businessmen who don't quite know what to make of a foreign female travelling alone. In the next compartment there are some Americans who I drink a beer with in the restaurant car, but they talk so loudly I have to escape back to the relative peace and quiet of the snoring, snorking, gnark gnarking Chinese businessmen.