Not so happy Guoqing

Yes, the Beijing Abandonees did get together as planned. I would have written all about it sooner had I not been busy making trips from my bed to the toilet worshipping the Ivory Goddess. I have never been so sick in my life from alcohol. It must be true then, that Kai and Vics serves up counterfeit alcohol that screws your insides like nothing else.

First stop Hua Jia Yi Yuan on Gui Jie because Ross had crayfish craving. I personally don't care too much for them because they look like miniature aliens to me that could quite easily have landed a cameo in Men in Black. I also read something interesting about the the xiao longxia in one of those email circulars that Chinese friends and colleagues forward on to you. This particular email urged the all patriotic Chinese not to eat crayfish which, allegedly, are not native to China but was brought into the country by the Japanese Imperial Army during their occupation of China. Legend has it that the JIA conducted biological experiments and widespread torture on the Chinese POWs - not that that is a secret, neither is it that hundreds of thousands died at the hands of the JIA who consequently faced the problem of body disposal. The JIA allegedly dumped a large number of bodies into ponds and lakes but quickly ran out of space because so many were killed in such a short time. The problem of openly decomposing bodies plus the stench and disease as a result is probably more than a little unpleasant even for the most battle-hardened war general. SO (here comes the twist) the JIA flew in planeloads of carnivorous xiao longxia and dumped THEM into the water to consume the prisoners' bodies. The critters not only munched their way through dead Chinese people, they also felt right at home and decided to multiply in their numbers. Ironically, a little while later some Chinese gastronome (or emaciated peasant) discovered that the xiao longxia was mighty tasty when broiled with lots of oil and tongue-numbing pepper flowers. And therefore in an ironic twist of faith the eater becomes the eaten becomes the eater and the xiao longxia rises from its sinister origins and is now the staple of celebrated food streets, best enjoyed with a big group of friends and washed down with warm 3 kuai Qingdao beers.

Ok, that was really shoddy bit of urban legend storytelling and I didn't do it any justice. It certainly didn't bother Ross at all who scarfed 3 portions of the greasy crustascean almost unassisted.

On to Bar Blu where I had my first and possibly last quality drink of the evening. It is more expensive but at least you pay up safe in the knowledge that Beefeater Gin, not some cheap Russian rip off, goes into your G&T. Then it was down the steps of Tongli, past Poachers and into Kai after spending our allocation on premium beverages for the night. The cheapest (and most possibly nastiest) bar in town was as packed as any bar could be even with the exodus of Beijing residents over the October holidays - great for people watching and freak-spotting. As that old adage goes, birds of a feather...

Who in Lord Horatio's name is that??

...tend not to stray all that far away from rest of the flock.

I tried to take some aerial photos of the club, although being about 3 feet taller would've probably be ideal for that endeavour, then perhaps I wouldn't capture my friends looking like they belonged at the neo Nazi youth convention :-/ ...

Erm...

Put it away, Josh!

Yes yes, from your cold, dead hands, we know...

After more than a few and when shirtless Brazillian men became too menacing to handle, Zach came up with a fabulous idea of going to Vics. Children, please, never ever go to Kai and Vics in the same night. I swear these two places serve different brands (can Perestroikovsky Vodkastolinoya even be justifiably called a brand??! ) with the same effect on your stomach as a molotov cocktail.

And so faced with the notion of going back to the office tomorrow I can't help but wonder if my National Day Holidays could've been somewhat more engaging than alternating between the watching rubbish telly on the sofa and twitching in bed. It's a depressing thought.