Jet lag blues

Jet Lag Blues

Though technically I’m writing this at 3:00AM, my devotedly British body has cheerfully decided that it is 8:00PM “Now is the time to act!” my brain seems to be saying. There’s a small productive man inside, who - having just woken up from a long nap - has decided to make up for previous inproductivity. “Write a book! Finish that project! What’s this word in Mandarin? Better look it up! How about we do some physio?” 

Another difficulty is the food. I had supper only five hours ago, but I am lying awake in bed absolutely starving. I seem to have decided that the flight over to China, where one is fed a full meal every three hours or so, was a good regime of health. Despite already having three bowls of starchy, white, sticky rice so far today, my stomach has taken cultural assimilation to heart and is lustily crying out for more. I suspect after my 13th day of white rice, it will be saying something different, so long may it last... 

Turning my razor sharp social commentary to another topic, I feel I must inform you all that Chinese beds are truly something special. You know memory foam? When you first lie on the bed, it’s hard and unyielding. Then after several seconds you sink luxuriously into the gentle embrace of the dream gods, who seem to be calling your name and fawning over your yawns and sleep stretches. Chinese beds are a similar experience! One caveat: you never progress past the first stage. Many a tourist in China has balanced on the bed, waiting hopefully for the sinking cushioning that never comes. Some compare Chinese mattresses to table tennis tables, but I feel that’s a bit harsh. Table tennis tables are much softer. 

That said, I’m currently in a top bunk of a 8 year old, so frankly, I’m just pathetically glad I fit the bed!